Suit Of Dissonance
by Symbiotific
Summary: Alfred finds out that it's not easy ruling a kingdom. Not when your apparently-insane late father leaves it to you in a sorry state. Not when your new Queen has weird eyebrows and refuses to listen. Cardsverse!AU.
1. Chapter I

**Title:** Suit of Dissonance 1/?  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Genre: <strong>Cardsverse Fantasy AU, How To Rebuild A Kingdom 101 (romance, general fantasy)  
><strong>CharactersPairings: **Alfred, Arthur, Matthew, Yao | Eventual Alfred/Arthur  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Alfred finds out that it's not easy ruling a kingdom. Not when your apparently-insane late father leaves it to you in a sorry state. Not when your new Queen has weird eyebrows and refuses to listen. Cardsverse!AU.  
><strong>Chapter Summary:<strong> Alfred escapes his own coronation ball, and bumps into one errant Time Mage.  
><strong>Notes:<strong> Multi-chaptered collab fic again! Based on our interpretation of Himaruya's Cardsverse. Comments and feedback always welcome.

**Chapter I**

The news came in the form of a young, chirpy boy.

"Mister Kirkland!" He exclaimed as he threw the doors to the small wooden cottage open. "- Sir!" He added hastily, eyes ablaze with some great excitement, "The King is dead!"

Arthur Kirkland paused for a moment, his cup of tea half-raised to his lips. It was a cool morning after a midnight shower, and the chill in the air clung to the edges of his skin - the kind of morning that called for a warm cup of tea and a nice thick book and not the kind of morning for news like this. He raised a brow. "What, the frog finally kicked the bucket? Good riddance."

He had seen the King of Diamonds just a day ago, parading the streets in his usual foppish air of glamour and decadence - a week ago he had turned yellow daisies into a shower of coins, yesterday he was sprinkling wine onto cobbled streets (a perfect waste of good wine, Arthur thought) - and though it was quite hard to believe that he was just suddenly dead in a day, Arthur Kirkland didn't really mind. Not too much anyway. The nation's stability would be a problem but the court was fairly competent, or as competent as courts could be so-

"No no! Not King Francis!" The boy let out a rather loud and exasperated sigh. "You know. _The_ King."

Arthur stood up. "The King?" He repeated. "The King of Spades? Alphonsus? He's _dead_?"

"Yep! Passed away due to poor health or madness or something two days ago! The streets are bursting with the news!" He didn't seem to pay any attention to how Arthur had to put down his cup of tea. "The Time Mages are celebrating! We can go back now, sir! Go back and claim what is _rightfully_ ours and-"

"I'm not going."

"But-" His refusal was apparently expected, judging by the immediate rebuttal. "You're one of the most powerful Time Mages and you've worked for the King before! If we're going to overthrow the current government surely-"

"I'm not going." Arthur turned back to pick up his cup of tea once more. "Getting a little too old for that."

The boy laughed at that, a genuine tittering laugh that echoed around the room (empty, except for a shelf of books and a rug on the floor). "You're really funny, sir!"

"... They're leaving aren't they." Arthur sipped his tea. The morning chill had got to it, he realised with a grimace. Outside the window he saw the rest of them, all in cloaks of dark slate blue, waiting. For him? "When?"

"Tonight. They're going to get to the new King before he's crowned."

The cloaked shadows outside barely moved. Sometimes the smaller ones would give an impatient twitch, but otherwise they were watching from under their hoods, completely silent. An awkward bunch, Arthur found himself thinking despite everything; all odd shapes and unequal sizes, and too many bent over and slightly crooked. He knew why they were here.

"Revenge." The word was raw on his tongue, a little too shaky for his own liking. "I'll see."

"You'll come with us." The boy was cheerfully reassured, repeating the words told to him by many others, no doubt. Very confident, Arthur noted, before realising that there was no reason for him to _not_ be. That no one would expect Arthur Kirkland to do otherwise. "This is for you too, as much as it is for us."

* * *

><p>"This ball is <em>for you<em>, Alfred," repeated Yao exasperatedly, for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. "You can't just _leave_."

Standing beside him dressed in full ceremonial robes, similar to Alfred's own but a tone darker in colour, Matthew merely rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath about _duty_ and _responsibility_; and that, Alfred thought to himself, is _exactly_ why Matthew should have become king instead.

The whole affair, in all of it's bronze-gilt and royal blue trimmings, which were apparently in season, rubbed Alfred the wrong way in _every way_ possible.

The evening had passed in a blur and had involved too many courtly courtesies and too many names of too many lords and earls and what-nots (_What was the difference between a lord and an earl anyway? They looked about the same and just about equally fat-_) that Alfred could barely remember. It was encounter after encounter of polite nodding on his part and attempting to sound intelligent, then after that it was a round of formal ballroom dancing with said earl or lord's daughter. And it wasn't as if the ladies had been _unattractive_ or anything of that sort, but Alfred hated the ball and the courtly facade he had to put on and all the formal greetings and ways of saying and doing things and the velvet draperies and golden cutlery and gobblets and the music from the orchestra and on top of that _he really, really hated dancing_.

He had danced with the tenth lady, a young maiden whose features were staring to meld in with the previous five - and was her name Amelia or Amanda or Ashley? - and finally, with a frozen smile on his face, excused himself. He then shut himself in one of the back rooms and refused to come out. Not even after Yao and his brother showed up because the rest of the court were wondering where the hell their new king disappeared to, or did he eat something that did not settle well with his stomach?

It was definitely not the _food_ that was causing a problem, Alfred thought to himself glumly, shifting uncomfortably in his too-heavily starched robes, scratching the back of his neck where the tall collar with its scratchy fabric had attached itself to for the previous hour or so.

He had grown up on a healthy diet of sneaking out of the castle and being with the people, not being put _above_ them in any way or expected to act like some royalty. He cared little enough for balls in general, especially not one that involved so much stiffling pretenses of good upbringing, or whatever else his position entailed. Alfred found the whole tradition to be utterly ridiculous, right down to Aequitas, the gold, spade-shaped pocket-watch - insignia of the King of the Spades Kingdom.

_King of the Spades Kingdom_, Alfred thought to himself, running his thumb along the raised gold ridge of Aequitas. The title didn't sit well with him _at all_.

He had always thought Matthew would be King. Alfred never liked thinking about the day when his father wouldn't be around, regardless of how much of an absentee-father he became in his later years. But when he did fall into that line of thought, Matthew taking his place as the next King seemed like the only logical option. Disregarding Matthew's slight physical weakness, Alfred failed to understand why they _wouldn't _have Matthew inherit the throne instead. They were twins, yes, which put them on equal standing in line to be the next King, but everything else about them screamed difference. And Alfred was pretty sure that if everyone _bothered_ to think carefully about their differences for once they would see it his way too.

Alfred was the charming one, _the golden boy_, as Matthew so drily put it. He was the one who made the servants coo at him, the one who skipped classes to sneak out of palace grounds to play tag with the kids in the lower town. _Matthew_ was the one who picked up Alfred's robes after he vacated them, sat through his classes and lay resting in his bed, reading, because the court physicians had deemed bed rest a suitable hobby.

_'S not like the king has to do much running around,_ Alfred thought, kicking at the ground with the toe of his boot. _Obviously. _

As far as Alfred was concerned, the highest position he should hold in court - which was all about responsibility and duty and manners and behaving in the right way - was probably the errand boy. Or maybe a Knight, if he wanted to so flatter himself with the title.

"Alfred," sighed Yao, "I'm serious aru. You need a Queen." He fiddled with his ponytail irritably, pulling at the sleeves of his own robes. "More than a coronation ball, that is the _purpose_ of this ball aru. You saw what happened to your father's reign when your mother-"

Matthew laid a hand on Yao's shoulder. "Yao? Maybe you could... Prepare the next group of ladies. I'll handle Alfred, god knows I'm a little more practiced at it, eh?"

Giving Matthew a sideways look (he knew of the brothers' tricks and plans, he'd watched them grow up after all), he gave both of them a cursory bow, before pushing aside the layered gauze hangings to re-enter the main hall.

Alfred held Matthew's gaze steadily. They knew how they worked, their dynamic, the very way the other brother thought.

"Al, you know this is important." No one could ever blame Matthew for not trying.

"Everything's important now," muttered Alfred, still toeing the ground.

Matthew sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You need to do this, Alfred. Just like everything else. You're King now and you can't just-"

"You can do it for me!"

Alfred held Matthew's gaze this time, determined not to be the first to look away in their little private battle of wills. Matthew looked Alfred dead in the eyes. "I can't always do everything for you, Al. Not forever. Not _this_," He stated, his arm sweeping over the masses of people in the main hall behind them, amassed on _Alfred's_ behalf, to celebrate the new King of the Spades Kingdom.

Alfred knew that Matthew, too, thought such an extravagantly lavish and altogether far too joyous ball was in horribly bad taste, after their father's hurried funeral.

"Once more, Mattie," weedled Alfred. "C'mon, _please_? I'll owe you one. I hate this place, I hate it more than you do, you know that. You know I hate it. I hate these clothes, I hate the fact that we're _up here_ and not _down there_, where all the people are. Where all _our_ people are Mattie, and that's not even a _fraction_ of them down there!" Alfred cried, pushing himself up from his seat. "You were always better at this whole smile-and-wave thing, _you_ were the ones who took all the damn classes on which fork to use and which style of robes goes for which kind of event and- _Mattie please_?"

"Alfred, you're trying to meet your future partner here." Matthew tried. "Don't you, I don't know, kinda want to be around for that?" He tapped the un-ticking Aequitas, hanging from Alfred's right pocket. "You kinda _need_ to be around for that too."

Alfred snorted, incredulous. "Matt, it's just a damn _watch_. A damn watch which doesn't work and-"

"- It's _supposed_ to start ticking when you meet the next Queen, you know that and-"

"- AND," Alfred continued, raising his voice to be heard over Matthew's irate tone, unclipping Aequitas, waving it around in Matthew's face. "We don't even know if the damn thing _works_!"

Matthew huffed, shoving Alfred's offending hand away. "Of course it works, don't be stupid. It's the insignia of the King, and- And it's been used for generations, of course it works!"

"You saw how often Dad dropped it!" Alfred cried. "It might have, I dunno, gotten broken! Do you know how _ridiculous_ it is to just sit around all night to wait for someone, who's presence or aura or whatever, would magically make this clock _tick_?"

"I KNOW!" Matthew shouted, in a moment of pure irritation, which shut Alfred up considerably. Matthew didn't make a habit of raising his voice often, which just gave more power to the times that he did. "I _know_," Matthew repeated, softer, running a hand through his hair irritably. "I think it's just as ridiculous as you but- But you have to do this Al. It's tradition. It's for the _kingdom_."

Alfred drew his gaze down to their shoes, both black and polished and inches apart. Guilt never sat well with him either, but it was the lesser of the two evils.

"Please Matt just- Just once more please?" He didn't look up to watch the crumble of Matthew's expression, only felt the tug at his sleeve, as Matthew pulled them behind the curtains, already unbuttoning his own coat.

God knew that they were already practiced enough at this.

* * *

><p>Running down a poorly cobbled street in breeches, and a thin, mended coat, Alfred felt the streets echo of home far more than the palace he'd been living in his whole life.<p>

When they were younger, Matthew would poke and laugh at him, saying that he was meant to be a carpenter's or mechanic's son, destined to roam the streets in the suspenders and shirtsleeves he loved so much. Alfred would bite his tongue over the retort, that Matthew then, must've been acutely suited to the life of royalty, hidden away in the chambers, taking bedrest and classes which technically, Alfred had a part in putting him in, whilst he crept through the thick shrubbery which lined the back of the castle, darting into the streets.

He loved everything about the lower towns. The first time he had run off, he'd skipped past the higher estates of the aristocrats, following his stomach (and his _heart_, as Matt was so fond of mocking) to the rich, heady smell of roasting meat and baking pies. Alfred had pulled his newsboy cap low on his head, in a poor attempt to obscure his face, before sticking a bronze coin over the counter.

"A slice of co'ish pasty, m'am, please?" He had said, in his best village accent, not daring to look up past the counter, lest the shopkeeper recognized him and sent him back. _They can't do that, can they_, Alfred had worried, in the short pause between his words and the reply. _T-They won't tell Dad or Yao or-_

"'Ere y'go, lad. Now scamper off."

Relieved, Alfred snatched the slice off, not bothering to look at the amused look on the lady's face.

He had sampled all the pies in the shop since then.

"Back again are we, Alex?" She'd fondly smile, as Alfred slipped her a few coins. "Yeap! Your pasties are as fantastic as always, m'am!" He'd say, before running off to play with the other kids around the block.

It was the childhood he never really had, Alfred would justify to himself. It's not my fault for wanting to reclaim what I didn't get, he'd think stubbornly, every time he gave Matt his coat and lesson plans for the day, before running off.

Walking down the streets, nineteen and a new _King_, Alfred felt his stomach tug him towards the pasty shop. The route down to the lower towns was a long one, but it didn't matter which turn he took so long as he moved in the direction of the tilt in the ground. The cobbled streets were sloped downwards, which sped up the process of reaching and made going back to the castle a particularly weary and tiring journey up. Sometimes Alfred would wonder if that had somehow contributed to his blatant dislike for the castle.

The houses in the upper town were more or less empty, Alfred noted as he brisk-walked down the slope, trying not to break into the run his twelve-year-old self was most accustomed to. Most of the residents were probably at the ball anyway. He turned at the next corner, slipping into an alleyway which he had memorized as a shortcut. The price of the shortcut, Alfred had learnt many years ago, was the terrible stench of garbage and the sewers that lingered the back alleyways of the upper town. It didn't matter all that much to him now, since it wasn't as if the lower town smelt any better.

_The first thing I'd do, as King-_

The thought trailed off there. Slightly shaken that for a moment he had almost eased into the single position he _didn't_ want to take up, Alfred shook his head a few times to rid his brain of that thought. His boot squelched into something. Alfred grimaced, but pulled it out and gave his foot a pointed shake - not that it would help; he recalled the many times he had returned to the palace and caused a huge racket because the maids caught scent of what they described as rotten vegetables mashed together with dog poop, even when he had wiped his shoes before heading back - and squinted in the dark to find what was hopefully a dry patch of ground-

- only to hear something brush across the top of his head.

"Wha-"

The thing hit the ground in front of him with a loud clunk, and several more successive clatters as it rolled. Alfred squinted again. Was that a bin-

"Tch, missed him."

"It's okay, we don't have a shortage of bins."

"Oy! What's the King doing out on the streets tonight, eh?"

Alfred held up both his hands as he turned around slowly. "W-would you believe me if I said I had a sudden craving for pasties...?" He tried, swallowing hard. He could make out the form of a small crowd - no more than ten, but not much less than that either. The advisors' reports never failed to tell the truth, and Alfred knew that the poorer citizens were upset. With the given living conditions, poor sanitation, air quality, lack of jobs and everything, he honestly didn't blame them.

But I'm trying dammit! Give me some time or-

"Cat got ya tongue, oh great _King of Spades_?" One girl spat at him, which Alfred flinched back from involuntarily. "Did a little rubbish put you off?" She sneered, kicking a rotten apple in his direction. "Well I'm sorry your highness, but maybe you should come over to the Lower West then, shouldn't you?"

"Or are you just mocking us," she taunted, reaching out for Alfred's shirtsleeve, "coming 'round 'ere in what must be damn _rags_ to you, to laugh at the piss poor state your father had us live in?" She looked at him right in the eyes. "Or are you here to tell us to vacate our homes again-" Her fist trembled, anger held back by a thinning thread, as she stepped even closer yet"- Again, so that you and your _sodding court_ can choose to-"

Alfred took a step back, hands still held in front of him. His other boot squelched into something else, but he couldn't really be bothered by that now. "No! I'm not-"

The rest of the crowd were closing in on him too, Alfred noted with slight alarm. Most of them were grown men, middle aged workers, judging from their clothes and their build. What was decidedly the most alarming part about them was really what they were holding in their hands; bins were alright, he didn't mind mud or a fair bit of bruising, but he was pretty sure that was a metal wrench in someone's hand, and in the hands of the most burly of the men he was pretty sure he saw something sharp glinting in the dimly lit alleyway.

"Should be getting rid of you before you have the chance to pull off what your father did." Someone muttered. Grunts of agreement sounded around him.

"I won't-"

"Or worse." Someone added. "You know how royalty is. All they care about is what they can take from us-"

"We don't need anymore bloody kings!"

It was a blessing, Alfred found himself thinking - rather absurdly, he had to add - in that split second, that the first blow came from the man with the wrench rather than the man with the sharp object. If he raised his arm he could probably block it, and then maybe if he turned and ran-

_Time. _He thought, with a rising panic in his chest. _I just need some time, and then I can fix whatever Dad put all of you through- _

And that was when time stopped.

(Ironic, Alfred would think to himself many months later; it was almost as if his wish had come true.)

Well, he wasn't _really _sure if time had stopped, but it most certainly felt like it did. It was like one of those tapestries that decorated the corridors of the palace, where people were frozen in a moment, their poses all iconic and telling whatever the story was supposed to be. (There was a word for this, Matthew had told him about it after he had skipped that particular lesson on Appreciating Arts and all that, but he had never bothered to register it to memory, because _seriously, Arts?_) The man in front of him frozen in mid-roar, facial features rather funnily scrunched up in anger (it _was_ funny, despite everything else), the wrench a few inches away from the side of Alfred's head. And his arm was a few inches away from where he needed it to be, but it refused to move.

The rest of the crowd too, were frozen, and none of them moved as a cloaked figure calmly walked through them, plucking various tools and makeshift weapons out of their hands. It took a while longer for him (it looked like a him, at least, judging from the stature to the shape of the body slightly obscured by a slate blue cloak) to wrestle the offending wrench out of the man's hand.

"I'd suggest waiting a few more weeks before you tried that, really."

The next moment, gravity and force came back into control. Alfred found himself punching the air (he had been trying _really hard_ to move his arm just now) at the same time he was shoved off to one side. The angry man fell forward, losing his balance and landing face-first on the ground.

Alfred blinked.

The confusion in the alley was eminent. Mumbles of _what just happened_ and surprised looks at Alfred ("How did he get there?") and much looking around, the makeshift weapons that they had, all suddenly gone. The confusion even momentarily distracted everyone from the new presence in the alleyway.

Alfred stared. "What did you just-"

The cloaked figure dropped all the articles he had collected on his way there. They fell, in a strange orchestra of clangs and clunks and dull thuds. Back facing Alfred, he held up both hands.

"I am not saying he does not have any responsibility for the crimes of his father, of course. I just thought that it probably isn't too fair that he hasn't had the chance to do anything yet."

The accent - which was really the only thing Alfred could attempt to use as a means of identification - sounded local enough, with the tilt and clipped tones of what he would expect from someone of higher class. Someone from the castle? But he didn't remember any of the servants with a voice like this. Or the ability to do whatever this man just did.

"Who are you!" The girl rushed forward to help the man who had been holding the wrench. He waved her away, dusted himself off as he dragged himself up, sneering,

"Palace guard, probably. Here to collect your precious King?"

There was no answer to that from the cloaked figure. Instead, he turned around to look at Alfred, "That is, under the assumption that you _are_ planning on doing something about this."

"O-of course, I-" He swallowed. Just a few minutes ago he had been trying to shove off Kingship to Matthew. Just a few minutes ago the only thing that he had equated with Kingship was a boring ball where he had to entertain placid aristocrats who talked about things like the latest fashion and luxury goods from the Diamond Kingdom and _Could the King of Spades consider lowering the taxes as a little favour to the Earl of so-and-so_?

But that wasn't it was it? Alfred steadied himself. If he wanted to change anything, _do_ anything for these people, surely the only thing left for him to do was-

"Whatever my Father has done- I'll fix it. To make this Kingdom a better place for all the people. That's my only priority as King."

The cloaked man held his gaze for a moment, before turning back to the crowd. "You heard him."

There was an unsettled silence amongst the crowd. A few of them exchanged looks. Murmured whispers. _Maybe, perhaps we should-_

"Filthy _lies!_" It was the shrill shriek of the girl that broke the silence. "That's what your bloody _father_ said before he decided to take away everything that we've-"

Her screams were interrupted by a roar of approval. The man on the floor had leapt up, fists bared as he barrelled towards the man in the cloak. Possibly to get past him, or maybe in an attempt to take him down first, but the next moment time had stopped again. It was only for a brief pause, maybe a few seconds, but the cloaked figure had side-stepped the attack, his hand catching the man's wrist and pulling it backwards, twisting it as he pressed it against the man's back. His other arm locked around the man's neck.

The man let out a strangled choke.

"Dad!"

"Hey! Hey! Stop that!" Alfred did the first thing that came to mind. He grabbed the cloaked figure by the shoulder. Possibly a bad move, considering what the man was capable of doing in such a short time, but it wasn't as if he could do anything else. "Like, seriously! The guy's in pain!"

There was a slight pause. Alfred could barely make out any facial features from under the shadow of the hood, but he was pretty certain that the man had green eyes, and he was looking at him like he was out of his mind.

Another beat passed, and the cloaked figure stepped back, releasing his hold on the man, who in turn fell to his knees, coughing and gasping for air at the same time.

"You alright?" His hand was slapped away before he could touch the man on his shoulder. The rest of the crowd murmured some more as he struggled to get on his feet. Only the girl - his daughter, judging from her reaction just now - came forward to help him up. She glared at him as they walked away. The rest of the crowd followed, throwing uneasy glances over their shoulders, not at him, but at the cloaked figure this time.

Alfred licked his lips, watching their retreating forms.

"H-hey!" He called out, voice cracking pathetically to his own dismay. "I'm serious! What I said just now, I-!"

The girl and her father didn't stop; none of the villagers did.

Alfred waited for three seconds before deflating. "_Whoaaa_ all that for a pasty... I think I'm full now." Not really caring how clean the wall behind him was, he leant back against it and tried to remember how to breathe properly.

"Uhm," He looked over to the cloaked figure, who was still there, (thank god, with how he suddenly appeared Alfred almost thought that he would just suddenly _poof_ and disappear too) "- whoever you are, thanks I guess?"

"What the hell are you doing outside the castle without your guards?"

"Uhm?"

"Or are you blissfully ignorant about what the people in this Kingdom think of you?"

"_No!_ I-"

"Then just what do you think you are doing?"

"I- the ball was _boring_ okay? I needed to breathe!"

"What are you, a ten year old?"

"I'm nineteen!"

"Then act like one!" The cloaked figure snapped. "If you are going to be King the least you could do is to realise what it means to be in your position! Sneaking out of an important event like that without bothering to bring people along to protect you is a shoddy attempt at pretending to be an adult!"

"Who the hell are you to tell me all that!" It was more than slightly unnerving to meet a stranger who talked to you like they knew you for ages, Alfred decided. He frowned at the man, wondering if his best impression of a not-so-pleased teenager was showing in the terrible lighting conditions of the alleyway. "I mean, I don't even _know_ you and you're talking to me like you're my-"

_Mother_, the word was on the tip of his tongue. He swallowed.

The cloaked figure said nothing, crossing his arms.

Alfred found himself bristling at the sheer _smugness_ that seemed to emanate from that single gesture. He calmed down, irritably, when he realised that he had nothing in his possession which could take the other man down.

"I-I'm sorry, okay? I've snuck out of the castle all this time and there's never been a problem... A-And I know the ball's important and all that, Mattie's been all over it already- God don't I know it- but it's just _stupid_ and all those earls or lords or whatever smell funny and they're all boring and stuck-up and- And _seriously_, what type of stupid tradition is waiting for a clock to tick in the presence of your One True Love or whatever else they call it anyway?"

"I believe it's less of 'One True Love' and more of a suitable partner for ruling over the-"

"_I_ think," Alfred interrupted, pulling Aequitas out of his pocket in a flourish, "This stupid clock is broken. I mean, it's been an entire evening and it's not even tick-"

_Tick._

The first tick echoed around them, mockingly.

Alfred stared.

"_No_," the man breathed, incredulous. "That is- That is _not_ doing what I think it is doing."

"No, of course not!" Alfred laughed. Too shakily. "I-It's not ticking at all!"

Aequitas seemed to stare at him back in the face, the golden second hand mocking him like a tutting tongue and a waving finger all at the same time.

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

**A/N:**

Tada! New shiny AU! The storyline for this AU is pretty much charted out already, so all that's left to do is write it! Updates should come around once a week, so please be patient with us! Comments and feedback are always welcome. Check our Tumblr (link in our profile) for Hika's art and our drabbles. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter II**

"It's not ticking. It's not ticking. What is ticking? T-This isn't ticking at all!" babbled Alfred hysterically, staring at Aequitas.

"I-It's alright! Calm down!"

They were obviously everything except calm, Alfred decided, the cloaked figure and him pacing in opposite directions up and down the alley. He stopped in mid-pace, turning around suddenly,

"You're a guy right?" Alfred asked, narrowing his eyes.

"What the hell- Of _course_ I'm a bloody guy! Which part of me screams female?"

"Well the fact that you were _kinda_ nagging like someone's mother just now? I mean, it's possible right? Because I'm supposed to marry the person who makes this thing tick and-" Alfred eyed the other man warily, "-And you're like-"

"Stop right there." He held out a hand. Alfred was almost expecting time to freeze over again, but it didn't. Instead, the cloaked stranger cleared his throat and inhaled deeply. "Alright. L-let's just try this first. You are going to turn your back to me and walk all the way down that alley until that clock stops ticking."

Alfred nodded, swallowing.

"If it doesn't stop ticking, it has obviously malfunctioned. If it stops, you're going to walk back slowly and see if it starts ticking around me again. Clear?"

"Okay. Okay that sounds good." Alfred steadied himself, glaring down at Aequitas, daring it to do anything out of the norm. It continued ticking.

Making a face, Alfred turned around and started to walk. He counted his steps in his head in an attempt to forget the general awkwardness that came about following such instructions. He was around fifty steps or so away when Aequitas stopped ticking. Well, damn. Looked like it wasn't a permanent error or something. Still, the experiment was only half done. Alfred took in a long, deep breath, turned around, and walked back.

_Tick._

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

The urge to throw the damned golden pocketwatch onto the floor was excruciatingly tempting now. "_Seriously,_ Aequitas?" He mentally screamed at the offensive gold watch. "I don't even _know_ this guy! And all that save-the-damsel-in-distress-and-get-hitched fairytale shit does _not_ apply in this situation!"

Anyone else would have been able to tell that Alfred F. Jones was no longer in his right mind considering how he was talking to a _watch_ out of all things. Alfred shook Aequitas hard, wondering if the concept of shaking some sense into a person applied to clocks too. An apparently Magical clock, but nevertheless.

"Let me-" Cloaked stranger was doing a strange hand gesture with his hands, pawing at the air around Aequitas, "Could I just- see that thing-"

Alfred raised an eyebrow, but held Aequitas up nevertheless.

The man pulled off his hood, leaning in till his nose was almost touching the clock face and squinting at the golden body of Aequitas, and Alfred noted that he _did_ have green eyes, and- _God_. Were those supposed to be _eyebrows_?

After a minute or so he let out a sigh and pulled back, shaking his head as he crossed his arms. "... Unfortunately or fortunately put to one side, Aequitas is currently perfectly functional."

"You mean it's not broken? Really? 'Cus I'm pretty sure Dad dropped it too many times to be safe-"

"The cogwheels are in perfect order and it's regulating the time around it just like it's supposed to." When Alfred opened his mouth to ask the man just what in the _world_ he was talking about, he held up a hand and cut in, "Trust me. I know how clocks work."

"Soooo you're saying...?" Alfred cued, hoping that the other man had not suddenly decided that it was all fine and dandy that they were going to get married because the clock was _working_. Because he had honestly thought _better_ of him, than to succumb to this kind of ridiculousness, even if he had just known him for half an hour.

"As doubtful as I am about _this_ decision," said the man pointedly, "Aequitas has never made a mistake, and even if this is a mistake- and it probably is-" _mumble mumble_, "- I have an obligation as a Time Mage to respect its decision and-"

"Oh no you don't. I am most _absolutely_ not marrying you-" Something else caught in the back of his mind - why on earth was a Time Mage back within the city, for one - but at the moment nothing was more important than the fact that a stranger was about to say yes to an arranged marriage prescribed by a _clock_ out of all things.

"You don't need to." The man sighed, scratching the back of his head head as he waved a hand in the general direction of the castle, "I mean, it's been an age-old tradition of the Spades Kingdom for the King and Queen to be bound by marriage, but technically, Aequitas is only dictating a suitable Queen. And Queens, especially in the other Kingdoms, do not need to be romantically involved with their Kings."

"Oh." Alfred said, feeling a little stupid and wondering if this was why he was supposed to take History lessons on the Political Systems of the continent.

"... Or the bloody frog would be classified as a pedophile and his Jack will probably murder him." Mumble mumble.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing." came the clearer response. "... as I was saying, there is absolutely no need for us to get married."

"So uh, what? I need to take you in as my Queen?"

He watched a slight shadow of doubt cross the man's face- it showed, when those (_gigantic_) eyebrows twitched and furrowed just so slightly- followed by a slight grimace that was no more than a tightened jaw, "You don't _need_ to. That is a decision for you to make as a King. Aequitas has made a choice, but it doesn't mean that it won't tick again if you meet someone else that is suitable as well-" he trailed off, "... And to tell the truth I don't see how I can be suitable for this job."

Alfred blinked. "Well," he cracked, "You've obviously proven yourself as an excellent bodyguard-" The glare that was sent his direction told him that it was probably a bad joke to crack at this moment. "-Sorry."

They lapsed into rather uncomfortable silence after that. The man, with his arms crossed, standing rather awkwardly in the middle of the alley. Alfred, standing stupidly with Aequitas' chain still clutched in his fist, staring blankly at the nearby wall.

Alfred weighed his options.

First off there was this... _Guy_, whose name he didn't even know yet. He had ginormous eyebrows, fought like a badass, was a _Time Mage_, and was that- _Time magic_- what happened when everyone seemed to freeze? Then there was the ball. The ladies at the ball. The ladies and their fathers.

Then there was that un-ticking Aequitas, and the current one steadily keeping time in his hands.

Maybe it wasn't _that_ hard a decision to make.

"So uh, I guess we should get _this_ covered, at least. What's your name?"

* * *

><p>"Arthur Kirkland," Alfred repeated, willing his voice not to shake, "Will be my new Queen."<p>

The shocked silence of the court was overwhelming. Alfred fiddled nervously, back in his uncomfortable ceremonial robes that threatened to suffocate him in their stuffy itchy-ness. He tried to count his blessings- at least the ball had long ended and he thus had a very limited audience.

A very limited, but very shocked audience.

To his left he could hear Matthew fiddling nervously too. Yao was standing below with the rest of the court, making a scrunched up face that told Alfred very clearly that he did _not_ approve of this at all, that this was a very stupid decision, and (given the current reaction from the rest of the court) _I told you so_.

The only person that wasn't doing the nervous awkward fiddling around was Arthur himself. Even the various members of the court (all wrinkly old men, some of which who looked like they were ready to clutch on to their failing hearts and just _collapse_ at Alfred's announcement) were shifting around and muttering to each other, exchanging looks and throwing sideway glances at their King and said new Queen. Arthur stood to Alfred's right, back completely straight, eyes looking straight ahead, his arms folded behind his back. He was still in his dark slate blue cloak, hair slightly tousled and smelling strangely like the alleyway, but even so he stood, completely unmoving and unperturbed by the reception the court was giving him.

Alfred cleared his throat. "Aequitas has made the decision." To prove his point he held up the golden watch. A ripple of shock spread through his audience.

"But, my lord- Surely-"

"Not all Queens need to be bound by marriage to their Kings." Alfred added, feeling a little proud that he could use this newly found piece of knowledge so soon.

"All the previous Queens in the Kingdom have been female, my lord. This is not a good sign, if the Kingdom's Clock has chosen a male-"

"The decision of Aequitas has always been the most appropriate decision for the Kingdom. Perhaps it has decided that such traditions have to change in a time like this." Alfred threw a glance at Matthew. His brother gave him a small nod. Good, it was a decent rebuttal then. He turned back to the rest of the court who had broken out into a discussion with controlled volume. They sounded like the rumbling of a distant thunderstorm, Alfred thought to himself absentmindedly; a distant thunderstorm that was going to come down on him very soon, all lightning and thunder and heavy rain. Hopefully it was going to be a quick one, like all sudden thunderstorms, because all Alfred wanted to do at the moment was to have a warm bath and then collapse face first into his bed.

"Please reconsider, my Lord." The first of his advisors spoke up. A wave of mumbled approval sounded after that. "There may be other suitable maidens that could-"

"Arthur Kirkland..." Another voice sounded from the other end of the room. "... Have I met you somewhere before?"

Alfred blinked. The rest of the court turned around to look at the owner of the voice. It was one of the elderly advisors, so bent over and crooked that he looked like he could be Alfred's great-great-grandfather. He croaked slightly at the attention, and lowered his head, "I am sorry for the interruption, my Lord, he just looked very familiar... And then his name..."

This time all the eyes turned over to Arthur. Unable to help himself, Alfred looked too. If Arthur was uncomfortable at the sudden attention, he didn't show it.

"- now that you mention it-"

"- he does look very familiar-"

"I mean, those eyebrows, surely-"

(Arthur had twitched at _that_ sentence, Alfred found himself noticing with a slight tinge of triumph.)

"Kirkland!" Came the sudden exclamation. "_Arthur_ Kirkland- he was that Time Mage who was in charge of the army-"

"Oh- From the Royal Guard of the King-"

"You were the _what_?" Alfred stage-whispered to Arthur over the sudden noise of realisation throughout the hall. Army? _Royal Guard of the King?_ The rest of the court was suddenly ablaze with exclamations and sudden realisations, and the only person who didn't really look all that surprised was Yao, and Alfred wondered if he should confront the old Jack about not telling him that Arthur _used to work for his father_ when he knew (he _had_ to have known, because why else did he have this facial expression of defeated resolution when this was uncovered?).

Arthur sighed, his shoulders falling a little. "I didn't see the need to explain it to you."

"You could've _told_ me that you worked for Dad! It would've made things easier-"

"Not necessarily." Arthur dropped his gaze at that, and Alfred felt a strange sense of irritation rising within him, because it was _obvious_ that there was something he was being left out of, and _why should he_ _be_? He was the King, for god's sake.

"Arthur Kirkland? You're really that same Arthur Kirkland? We thought you died back then, when-" The exclamation trailed off into an awkward cough. "When, well-"

"I moved to the Diamond Kingdom. It wasn't... Appropriate for me to return. The news that Alph- the late King had passed away reached me and I thought to at least pay my respects."

Another rumble of various old men thinking to themselves aloud under their breaths. Alfred waited, patiently, trying his best not to open his mouth and ask them if they were done, because seriously, Arthur _used_ to work for his father and didn't this make it more appropriate for him to take the position as Queen? Why were these old men still thinking and talking amongst themselves like this was supposed to be a difficult decision? Why was Arthur still staring at his feet?

"... It would do the Kingdom good to have Time Magic back with us."

_Finally_ someone spoke up. And thankfully, the silence that followed after that did not last for longer than a minute.

"To have a Queen who already knows the way things work in this Kingdom-"

"Perhaps it's not such a bad idea-"

"After all he'd be able to protect the King too-"

"An exception," came the loudest voice from one of the younger advisors, "Needs to be made, it seems."

_Bath,_ Alfred thought, gratefully.

* * *

><p>"- <em>N-No<em>, honestly, another bed will not be necessary-"

"But my Queen-" came a familiar voice, "- Uh. Sir? W-We cannot allow you to just sleep on a mattress in the study; a bed is being brought in right now, if you would just-"

"But it is not necessary!"

"B-But my uh, Queen-" the voice continued to sound strained and vaguely uncomfortable, as Alfred made his way from the bathroom back to his main chambers.

"If I really am your bloody new _Queen_," spat Arthur, as Alfred rounded the corner, to watch Arthur and a footman argue in the center of his study room, "then you _will_ let me sleep wherever I damn well please!"

"But-" the servant tried again, admittedly quite pathetically.

"Hey, Lucas?" Alfred leaned against the doorframe, addressing the servant. Both Arthur and Lucas whipped around at Alfred's voice coming from behind them.

"Just let the Queen sleep wherever he pleases, seriously." Alfred said. "Less work that way."

"As you wish, your highness," the footman frowned, bowing deeply nevertheless. "I would have prepared for yours and the Queen's sleeping arrangements but ah, all of the staff were under the assumption that the both of you would..." a discreet cough, "... Bed together?"

A snort issued itself from Arthur, as Alfred rolled his eyes at the sound.

"No Luke, we're not going to uh, bed together. I mean _really_? We just _met_ each other." Alfred waved dismissively at the servant, "Don't worry about it. Just uh, do whatever Arthur told you to."

"Yes, your highness. I'll have the mattress moved into the study immediately. If you will now excuse-"

"Wait a second," Alfred turned to Arthur, incredulous. "_Mattress_? In the _study_? Really?"

Arthur shifted, minutely uncomfortable, but still managing to sound haughty. "I-I assumed it would be the most reasonable option."

Alfred snorted. "Really? That was your most reasonable option? To pull up a mattress to my study? Really, Arthur?"

"Really, Arthur," mimicked Arthur, and Alfred found himself frowning because _no way in hell do I sound that annoying._ "Honestly, I've had the longest day ever imaginable and I'd very much like to just get some sleep. Now if you would just-"

"Hey Luke, could you prep a room for the Queen instead?"

"Alfred!" Arthur frowned. "They've already been troubled enough and the mattress is already half-way up the-"

Alfred simply waved him away, stepping forward closer to Luke. "So yeah. Prepare another room alright? Maybe the nice one with the green upholstery down the hall?"

"ALFRED!" Arthur shouted this time, clearly peeved, his voice echoing around the room in a way which suddenly seemed almost worryingly familiar. "Stop interrupting-"

"-SO," Alfred raised his own voice to drown out Arthur's, "alright?"

Lucas' eyes were widened, mildly startled by the raised voices and palpable tension between the two. "Y-Yes, your highness," he managed to choke out, quickly excusing himself from the room.

"I win," Alfred turned around to grin at Arthur, partially confused by his own choice of words. _Since when was this a competition?_ But something about Arthur just screamed of things which seemed to make Alfred bristle in all the wrong ways. It couldn't be helped, he supposed.

"You _child_," muttered Arthur, exhausted and just on this side of disgusted, as he let himself fall into a settee by the window. Alfred watched him mumble to himself, lips moving around words incomprehensible, snippets of _King_, _wretched_, and _Alphonsus_ slipping through the cracks. Alfred felt a pang instinctively at his father's name.

He drew up a chair to the settee, sitting on it backwards, resting his chin on the chair's back. He watched Arthur for a few more long moments, the dusty lines of his slate-blue robes falling over weathered breeches and worn leather boots, and those eyebrows which failed to be obscured, even by the arm thrown over Arthur's eyes.

"Arthur?"

Alfred watched the agitated line of his lips stop moving, forearm unshifting.

"Yes?"

Toying with the cuff of his sleeve, Alfred debated with himself for the last time, whether he should ask. It had run circles around his brain, dancing tantalizingly, the lure of curiosity which Alfred never felt sated of, books and hear-say lapping at the edges of his mind.

_No time like the present, right?_

"What happened to the Time Mages?"

Arthur shifted, minutely, as his tongue came out to wet his lips, as if pre-empting a long discussion. The reply was disappointingly short.

"Whatever they've told you, happened." Pause. "Or did you skip out on your history lessons as well?"

"Well yeah, I did, but I found my way around it," dismissed Alfred. "But there's... Very little information on the factional shift of the Time Mages," he said, blindly groping at the bits of information Matthew had spoken to him about over assorted meals and the gaping years past. "Articles and documents and paperwork," he continued, Matthew's words slipping past his mouth. "I want-" Alfred swallowed, not knowing the reason for the sense of foreboding washing over him.

"- I want the truth."

But he _had_ the truth. The truth painted out in books published in his youth, of The Great Movement, of Time Mages being relocated to places beyond the kingdom's reach, in equal part of fear and awe at their powers.

Their powers to control and manipulate the cogwheels of time invisible to other humans gave them the ability to wield time to their own advantage, or something like that. They could stop time, accelerate time, or even slow down their own time, which meant that they could live forever if they wanted to, and one of the biggest feats a Time Mage could pull was to reverse Time itself.

"You would never know," his father told him with a harsh whisper when he was still too young to fully understand the implications of it, "if the time you are currently living in is the Truth, or a manipulation of someone who has seen a different future, returned, and chose to meddle in it. What does it mean to live in a Time like that? We are mere puppets on a stage is under their command."

That was why, it was said, King Alphonsus moved the Time Mages out.

_For the integrity of our True Time._

Alfred had heard the other variations of the tale, from the cobblers on the junction between Dovetail Alley and Ironholde Road, the bakers down Champe's Road and the kids sandwiched in between the gridlock of buildings.

"The King's mad," they'd whisper, hushed and excited by the stark heresy passing between their lips. "Stark raving mad!" Alfred hung back, listening. "Mama says he'd been scared 'o 'em Time Mages!" one girl had frowned. "Nuh uh," another boy chipped in, having nudged his way to the front. "Dad says that they'd been plottin' to- To kill them. The _royal family_." Collective gasps all around, and Alfred felt himself shudder involuntarily. _They're stories, just stories, people say all kinds of things, _he'd tell himself at night. _And they're gone now._

Arthur shifted his forearm to rest at his forehead, eyes drawing a cutting gaze right at Alfred.

"The truth?" He asked, his mouth barely curving up at the edges, before looking up at the ceiling, as he shifted his forearm back down to cover his eyes. "The truth is what they say it is."

"But-" _But what of what they say? Which parts?_ There had been no reason to question printed and published history, signed in triplicate by his father, not till now. Not till a living, breathing, annoying Time Mage was lying on his settee, now his Queen. Not till Alfred had only just realized, sitting backwards on a chair, talking to said Queen past midnight, that such a strangely small (and yet paradoxically, by it's very nature, _huge_) part of his kingdom's history was missing.

A knock at the door broke the silence.

"Alfred?" Matthew asked, tentatively stepping into the room. "O-Oh. Ah- Sorry. I must be interrupting something. Sorry for calling on you so late, I'll just- I'll talk to you in the morn-"

"No, no, not at all," said Arthur, pulling himself upright. "I should be... Retiring to my own room."

"B-But wait-" Alfred tried, stumbling to get up as well, his hand narrowly missing the brush of Arthur's sleeve as it went past.

"Good night, Alfred, Matthew." Arthur smiled cordially at Matthew, glancing back at Alfred, still half out of his chair, before closing the door behind him.

"Way to go, Mattie," Alfred huffed flopping down onto the vacated settee.

"I'm sorry, were things just about to get steamy?" Matthew asked, voice dry, as he took up the chair Alfred had been sitting in.

"W-Wh_aaat_? We did not-"

"I know, I know, relax, I was kidding." He turned around to glance at the door, before back at Alfred, straight-faced. "And he's not as blond as that last girl. Or as built as that last guy."

"- _MATTIE._"

"Just saying!" Matthew bit his lip, half-frowning at Alfred's semi-shocked, semi-embarrassed expression. "I _am_ sorry though. Was I interrupting something important?"

Alfred frowned petulantly. "No, not really." He signed, removing his glasses to rub at the marks they left on the bridge of his nose. "So why were you looking for me anyway?"

Alfred watched Matthew fumble with the clasp on the cuffs of his sleeves, fingers restlessly wanting to do something, just as Alfred's own tended to do.

"C'mon," he sighed, twisting around to lie back on the settee, facing the ceiling like Arthur had. "Out with it, Mattie-boy."

He heard the click of Matthew's tongue at that old nickname. "It's about the Time Mages." Alfred forced himself to stay still, to keep his breathing even.

"What about them?"

Matthew sighed. "I know you haven't exactly been attending all those history classes arranged for you; I mean, I kinda _enabled_ that, god knows I've enabled you _enough_ over the years and-"

"Matt," cut in Alfred impatiently. Matthew cleared his throat.

"Right. I've told you that I've... Looked into The Great Movement before, right?" Alfred nodded, for once, listening. "W-Well, right before all-" Matthew waved his hands between them and the ceremonial robes they were dressed in,"-This stuff, I found... Documents."

"Documents?" Echoed Alfred.

"Sort of. More like... Documents which state the lack of other documents." Matthew sighed noisily, resting against the back of the chair. "I wasn't... Completely sure before, but now I more or less am." Alfred turned his head to look at Matthew, face in that same set of almost scholarly determination which Alfred had gotten used to over the years.

"There's a massive amount of paperwork missing from The Great Movement."

Alfred frowned. "How much?"

"From the documents I've seen- Think of them as content pages, the earlier versions and master copies- At least three books of groundwork and plans, and two of accounts. _At least._" Matthew's finger came up to twirl agitatedly in his hair. "The existing ones don't match these, Al, which means that-"

Alfred raised an eyebrow, the words half-formed in his mind, waiting for Matthew to articulate them.

"- That some are fabricated."

"Some?" Alfred echoed again.

"... If not all," Matthew muttered, eyes downcast. Alfred could smell the distaste in the air, the briefly-suspended bitterness and doubt that Matthew always had for their father, counterpoint to Alfred's hero-worship in his earlier years. Alfred looked back up at the ceiling, contrastingly dull in it's boring whiteness.

"They can't be," he said, words empty, and he _knows_ that Matthew knows it. _Token stubbornness,_ Matthew would think.

Matthew sighed again, and Alfred wondered if Matthew would end up looking like the older one, just due to his worry lines alone. _At least people won't mix us up anymore_, Alfred thinks to himself absently.

"Al."

"Mm?"

"To do _this_ right-" And Alfred can see Matt making another sweeping gesture out of the corner of his eye, "-We have to find out."

Alfred closes his eyes, thinking about the citizens he had chanced upon (who had chanced upon _him_, and were desperate enough to take that chance, a part of him whispered), the dusky midnight sky outside the window, and the single errant Time Mage who had helped him.

"I know," Alfred muttered. "I _know_."

* * *

><p>The least he could do, Arthur decided after looking at the overly clean room and the plush bed covered in fresh-smelling sheets with just the slight scent of muskiness most beds that have not been slept in for a while had the tendency to possess, was to get out of his clothes that smelt a little too much like the back alleyway. He changed into the clean shirt and loose drawstring pants the servants had laid out for him and collapsed face-first into the bed, feeling only token guilt for dirtying the bed with the dust and soot and dried sweat that clung to his skin. He was tired, and though a warm bath would probably have done him (and the sheets, the poor clean sheets) good, he didn't really think he had the energy to move.<p>

It had been a while since he used Time Magic like that, he thought to himself absentmindedly, lazily tugging the covers out from under his body, wearily pulling the sheets up as he stared blankly at the ceiling. His time spent in the Diamond Kingdom had been uneventful and bland, which he thought was a blessing after all that had happened. There was no need to use magic, and for once Arthur found himself comfortable with that. His reputation back in the Spades Kingdom had been somewhat war-crazy, but that was merely something that was necessary for his job. Untrue to popular belief, Arthur Kirkland didn't dislike putting down his sword for once, and living alone in a small wooden cottage with only his books for company was satisfying and quite enough.

And yet here he was. Back in the Spades Kingdom. _As the Queen._

Arthur groaned, turning on his side and squeezing his eyes shut. He refused to think about the situation at hand. The _implications_ of the situation at hand.

_What the hell do you think you're doing, Arthur Kirkland,_ the voice in his head reprimanded.

_I don't know_, he thought back, and was immediately irritated at the fact that he didn't know, but still chose to stay. _Sleep,_ he dismissed all the other thoughts in his brain, willing as hard as he could to keep them quiet and force them to slink back into the shadows of his mind.

They refused to leave him alone.

They came back to him in waves, lapping at the edges of his brain; an annoying taunt of questions and answers and thoughts and thoughts and thoughts. Arthur gritted his teeth, turning over once more. He was tired. He wanted - _needed _- to sleep. He did not have the time and _energy_ for this.

Thirty minutes later he cursed as he dragged himself out of the bed. The room was stuffy, the sheets thick and rich and suffocating. The bed was trying to swallow him. And back in his brain was the endless tirade of questions and answers and thoughts and a whirlpool of things that he didn't want to deal with. Not now.

_Air_, Arthur thought as he sat up and wiped at the thin layer of sweat that collected at his temples, he needed some bloody air. Not entirely pleased at how his legs were refusing to support him properly, he dragged them towards the balcony, throwing open the double doors and sighing in relief when the cool night air hit his face.

Arthur let his warm palms rest on the cool wrought-iron railing of the balcony, breathing in the air. _Hasn't gotten much fresher_, he thinks to himself wryly, wrinkling his nose slightly. He had been spoiled by the relatively fresh air of the Diamond Kingdom's countryside, he realised, belatedly disdainful. As much as Arthur hated the Diamond Kingdom, in all of its pompous, lavish glory (_Culture!_ he heard the annoying voice lodged in the back of his mind correct him) - and on top of that its King (his brush with the boy, Francis, when he was two decades younger, still left a bad taste in his mouth, that made his eyebrows twitch unconsciously. That Incident was never to be brought up, not ever again) - the wide fields past the mountainous regions did them good.

A lot more good than Alphonsus would ever have been inclined to do, Arthur admitted to himself. _Not after... That._

"Arthur," a voice beside him rumbled, and Arthur stifled his jump of surprise, telling himself that really, this was to be expected.

"Isaac," he replied, cordially, turning to nod at the middle-aged man to his left, dressed in the same robes he had been wearing an hour ago. "Good... Evening."

"Is this a part of your _plans_," Isaac bit out the word like something sour and unwanted, "Arthur? To be _Queen_?"

Arthur swallowed, that ever-elusive tiredness sweeping over him again. He honestly didn't want to go through this again and- A_nd good god, does it look like I _ever _wanted to be Queen?_

"No," Arthur admitted."It was not."

Isaac stared him down, pale-blue gaze unwavering. Arthur absently remembered asking Isaac, a long, long time ago, why he chose to keep his appearance as such. A youthful, healthier (and thus more convenient) body could have been achieved easily, with a slight manipulation of his own cogwheels. Isaac had tugged at his loose, greying locks, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "Gives a sense of worldliness and dignity, I suppose. And great knowledge, wouldn't you think? Great knowledge," Isaac had repeated, gaze far off, seeing a century Arthur had never set foot in.

The gaze bit at his nerves, but Isaac was courteous enough to wait for Arthur to speak more.

_Play by ear_ sounded weak and flimsy, even to Arthur's ears, a half-drafted excuse for time, which was exactly what he needed. _Time_, he laughed to himself bitterly. _How ironic_.

He turned to Isaac. "We need time," Arthur said. The briefest of smiles flickered across Isaac's face. The irony wasn't lost on him.

"Do we?" he asked, half-mocking, half-serious and wholly encoded with far too many parts of things smelling of _revenge_ and _assassination_, which made Arthur want to gag.

"Yes," Arthur forced his voice to stay steady. "Alfred is... New," he supplied, for the lack of a better word. Childish and petulant wouldn't do much to buy him any sympathy.

"He is the new King, yes," Isaac nodded, without any trace of humor.

"_He_ needs time, Isaac. He's _young_ and- And he wants to _try_, at least," Arthur grappled with the words, only half-believing them himself, while the other half of him - the half of him stuck in the time of years past - tugged at him instead. "Give it a while. Wait to see where the chips fall and all that."

Isaac looked at him, penetrating and all too close for comfort.

Arthur thought of a multitude of things Isaac could have said. _Don't get too fond of him_, _time won't solve everything_, _we can't wait forever_, or _enough guilt to feed a murderer, eh Arthur?_

Instead, his lips curl up at the edges. "Alright," he murmurs, and then he is gone.

Arthur goes back into the room, his hands cold, falls to the bed, and doesn't wake up till the servants come for him in the wash of late-morning sunshine.

* * *

><p><span><strong>AN:**  
>So that was chapter 2! Hope it cleared up some of the mystery? :D Plenty more where that came from, I promise. Thanks for the overwhelmingly nice response (as well as Kinoko for the very helpful concrit) to the first chapter, we hope you've enjoyed this one as well!<p>

Shameless plug time! If you've followed us here from our last fic, Heartstrings, you might be interested to know that our doujin is finally open for international pre-orders! Link's in our profile if you're curious. Summary: In the fic, they go on a nice vacation to the Lake District, which doesn't turn out as nice as they expected (or does it?). In the doujin, Peter from next door stays with them for the weekend! It's about 50 pages (22 fic/24 comic) of shameless USUKUS fluff. PG-13 yo.

So anyway! Comments and feedback are always appreciated, as usual, see you guys in the next update!


	3. Chapter III

**Chapter III**

"-So, we're going to raise the taxes." Alfred ignored the mumbles of shock and protest around the table and continue, "Raise the taxes of the upper class aristocrats, and distribute that share amongst the people of the lower towns." Of course, he had expected the court to be against this motion of him, most of them being lords and earls and people of rather high status themselves. But he was King now, and he wasn't going to let a few old rich men stop him from doing good for the rest of the Kingdom.

He looked earnestly around the room, "It won't be _permanent_, just enough to support their living standard until they manage to-"

Next to him, the sound of a chair dragging. "If you would excuse us for a moment." Arthur stood up, straightening out the creases in his darker blue coat, "I believe the King has had a temporary moment of confusion."

Alfred stared at Arthur, blankly aghast. "What? I'm not _confused_! I'm being extremely serious here!"

"Yes, yes, of course you are." Alfred didn't miss the slight roll of Arthur's eyes when he said that.

"Arthur, I-"

"We'll be back immediately." Arthur flashed a smile at the rest of the members of the court, who looked significantly relieved at the Queen's interference. He headed for the door, turning over his shoulder to give Alfred a _look_ before heading out.

The rest of the court turned to Alfred expectantly.

"Uhm-" Alfred swallowed, then cracked into a sheepish grin. "What he said." Then he turned on his heels, cheeks tingling with the frustrated red of an insulted child, and tried his best not to slam the door behind him.

* * *

><p>"What-" Alfred nearly spat out, "- was <em>that<em>?"

"That was you being a complete idiot." Arthur scowled back, crossing his arms across his chest.

"You didn't need to interrupt me in the middle of the Court! If you had something against my motion we could always talk about it _after-_"

"After you've made a complete fool of yourself?" Arthur let out a frustrated sigh, shifting his weight from one foot to another, clearly getting more irritated as the seconds ticked past. "What the _hell_ was that? Do you even call that a proposal? You _said_ you were going to think it through carefully when we talked about this last night!"

"And I _did_! The upper class have enough money anyway, and all they're doing with it is spending all of it on things they don't really need! It's better for us to put all that money to better use by giving it to the poor who need it!"

He had honestly expected Arthur to shoot back almost immediately, but the surprising silence that followed was by far more unnerving than the retort he had expected. Arthur simply _stared_ at him, green eyes all shades of condescending and _Oh, god, I thought you were a pathetic sod but you are worse than that aren't you?_

"What is it!" Alfred gritted out, "Look, if you've got anything against the proposal-"

"The fact that I need to _point_ out what is wrong with your stupid plan is ridiculous in the first place!" Arthur snapped, tapping the toe of his sole against the plush carpet, "You are going to lose _all_ the support from the upper classes with this one movement. All of it. And out of all the people in this Kingdom they are probably the _only_ ones who are _still_ in favour of you before you go and ruin it!"

"Who _cares_ about them! They're just petty snobs who-"

"_And_," Arthur continued, voice rising in volume to drown out Alfred's loud protest, "You aren't going to just _solve_ poverty by giving people money! They're going to end up being dependent on government aid-"

"They won't! They just need the money to get out of their current situation! After that they'll-"

"They'll wait for you to give them more money or revolt, you stupid dolt!" Arthur exhaled sharply at that, rubbing at his temples with his fingers and muttering something under his breath about how in the world a _child_ was supposed to be King, and Alfred felt the pent up frustration at his queen from the past week expanding in the depths of his chest and stomach; a prickly, sludgy mess.

"You are _not_ solving the issue at hand with a movement like this! You are merely attempting to alleviate the temporary effects-"

"But I can't let them wait any longer-"

"So you decide not to solve the problem? Alfred, for god's sake, you are no longer a child so learn how to gain some _insight_ on how things work on a larger scale!"

"But I-"

"Your current proposal is merely a kid's attempt at ignoring the real problem-"

"BUT I'M THE KING!"

That, Alfred thought to himself belatedly, wasn't supposed to come out sounding like that.

"A-and this decision isn't bad-" He deflated slightly, regretting his outburst. Even to _him_ that had sounded bad. _Like a child_, his inner voice said snidely, voice dripping with venom.

"It's _terrible_." Arthur cut in, coldly. "And if you're going to try and _be_ King I'd suggest you learn how to _think_ properly first." He turned away, walking back to the conference room, "Before you make a fool of yourself, we're going with _my_ proposal."

"Your- your _what_?" Alfred grabbed at Arthur's sleeve, "What proposal, we never talked about-" His hand was shrugged off.

"A better one." Arthur didn't even bother to look at him for the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>"He's ignoring me." Alfred mumbled into the pile of paperwork sitting on his desk. "It's been an entire <em>week<em> and his stupid proposals have been approved and he's _still_ not talking to me!"

"From what you told me he has good reason to." Matthew sighed, placing a new stack of papers onto Alfred's desk. "And eh, these papers need your signature too, so-"

"But _still_!" Alfred pushed himself upright with both palms, "He's running the entire Kingdom without telling me a single thing-"

"... and doing a very good job," his twin threw in casually. Alfred shot him a look.

"Not the point! I-I mean, all I've been doing this _entire week_ was to sign papers that _he_ has already gone through! I'm not making any decisions! A-and the court's not telling me anything either, and i-it's like-" Alfred exhaled, pouting, "... It's like he's treating me like a kid. I mean, all the information goes straight to him, all the decisions are made by him-"

Knock knock.

"Your highness."

"Yes?" Alfred ignored Matthew's look of complete sympathy when he had nearly jumped out of his chair at the knock on the door. "Come in!"

"I bring news from the other advisors, your highness." If he was slightly shocked by the sheer enthusiasm radiating from Alfred's earnest face, the messenger didn't show it.

"Oh. Oh yeah! Go on!" Alfred ignored Matthew's pointed sigh. "What about?"

"The waterways are currently undergoing maintainence as you have required, sire, along with the construction of new wells. Most of the citizens who have the capability to work in the lower towns have been allocated new jobs."

"Oh." Alfred shrunk back a little in his chair. _Arthur's proposal_, he thought to himself glumly. He didn't even _get_ to hear about said proposal if not for Matthew coming into his room with new updates here and there. The Queen had requested for an all out repair-maintain-rebuild project in the lower towns, targeted at the faulty waterways and filter systems in the various factories. Buildings and structures were being checked for bad plumbing or crumbling foundation, and those that had problems were marked for repair work. The manpower, he had insisted, would come from any of the unemployed men from the lower towns.

According to Matthew, Arthur had insisted that all the men had signed proper contracts, and was strictly regulating their working conditions as well.

"It's working miracles with the people in the lower towns," Matthew had told him. "It's hard work, but most of them are happy that they have work and a stable income now. Much better than the situation they were previously in."

It wasn't as if he didn't _want_ to admit that Arthur was _capable._ The Time Mage was the epitome of efficiency and practicality, and, judging from what he had heard from Matthew, extremely competent in problem solving as well. Alfred had no problems acknowledging that. He respected Arthur a lot, and one could almost say he _admired _him. (If he were any younger, Arthur would have probably qualified as a hero; but of course, now that he was _older-_)

But at the same time it made him question himself: What the hell was he doing then, as King? Sign papers? Wasn't that almost as if he was some approval machine that Arthur simply fed papers through? He had responsibility for the Kingdom too. He didn't want to get shoved off to one side, patronized and handled and dealt with like a kid, he wanted to know more, learn more, do something-

Do something like he had promised that girl in that alleyway, so many nights ago.

"-and there has been news about an illness going around in the lower towns, but we believe that it is most likely just due to the general lack of hygiene there. Surely after the rest of the town is rebuilt the illness would-"

"Illness?" Alfred was snapped out of his thoughts. "What type of illness?"

The messenger paused for a moment.

_Oh_, Alfred thought to himself at the moment, sudden clarity in his head, _He doesn't know._

"It's nothing serious, your highness." The messenger smiled a shaky smile. "Something like the common cold, if I'm not wrong."

_He doesn't know._ The thought was loud in his head. It repeated itself, even after the messenger had bowed and taken his leave. _He doesn't know, and if I listen to him - them, any of them here - I won't ever know._

_Or perhaps-_ Another voice sounded in his head, suddenly wary and slightly worried - _perhaps they think that I can't take it? That I don't _need _to know?_

Was Arthur already solving this problem now? What would he suggest? Did he know what the illness was? Was he the one who told the messenger to brush Alfred aside? Just give him some details that would hopefully satisfy him and shut him up for a while?

"Alfred?" Matthew's worried voice sounded from his side. "Are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just too much signing of papers y'know. It's repetitive and boring and all that." Alfred tried a careless shrug, waving Matthew's concern off. He knew from the look on his brother's face that he didn't buy it at all, but then again it was _Matthew_, and there just wasn't anything he could do about that could he? "Anyway shouldn't you be going off? I swear you're probably busier than me, geesh."

Matthew continued to stand there, the look on his face skeptical of Alfred's current facade.

"Mattie, seriously! Go do your work! I need to-" Alfred turned back to his desk, "... Sign papers!"

"... Well... Alright then." Matthew was frowning as he walked over to the door. "Al?"

"Mmhm?"

"Don't-" he paused, trying to find a suitable word or phrase, "Don't do anything stupid."

"What, like knock my ink pot over all these papers?" Alfred rolled his eyes. "It's not like I _can_ do anything stupid when all I have to do is _sign._"

That seemed to finally convince Matthew, and the door clicked shut behind him.

* * *

><p>"Y-Your highness! Please, open the door! Even if you do not wish to eat, you must at least drink something!"<p>

"A-Alfred," a second voice tried, "we-"

There was a resounding solid smack, much like a hit to the head, echoing, before the first voice was brought down to a harsh whisper. "What are you doing, calling the King by his first name?"

"W-Well the King always hates it when we call him 'your highness'- You know how he is, asking us to call him by his first name, so I just thought..."

"Ugh, he is... _Peculiar_ like that, I suppose. But he never misses lunch, what if-"

"What is the problem?" Arthur asked, walking down the hallway. He had been on his way to Alfred's rooms, to get his signature for a few documents. As much as his newfound status as Queen opened many doors for him (literally - he was still unused to having the servants bow and aid him along his every step), some things still required the King's touch.

_Even if he is a petulant child_, Arthur thought to himself.

The two servants, one middle-aged woman and a younger boy, turned towards Arthur's voice, startled, as they bowed to him. "Your highness," they murmured.

Arthur nodded at them, eyeing the tray of steak and potatoes in the younger boy's hands. "Is that for the King?" he asked.

"Yes, your highness," the woman answered, biting her lip. "It is the King's lunch."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Lunch? But it's almost four in the afternoon." He paused, considering, his eyebrows drawing up a taut line. "Is the King refusing food?"

The boy servant shuffled his feet, hesitant. "He hasn't been answering us, my Queen. We've been at the door for almost an hour, and he hasn't made a sound." He looked up at Arthur, almost apologetically, as if Alfred's petulance was his own fault. "We came by the hour before that, and there was no answer then either. We- We thought he might've been busy with work, and didn't want to be bothered but..." Arthur snorted at the idea of Alfred rejecting food for work. He didn't seem to have that kind of work ethic in him, or so Arthur thought.

"But the King has never refused food before," the boy finished, glancing for an affirmation at the older woman, who nodded.

"Never," she confirmed. "Even as a young boy he'd come runnin' back at dinner and lunch, unless-" Worry clouded her face. "-Unless something happened to him," she muttered.

Arthur barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Alfred was stuck doing paperwork for the entire afternoon, or so Matthew had informed him. Locked in a room, with a fountain pen, inkwell, and the most mundane of papers, how on earth Alfred could have gotten into trouble with the most boring of jobs was completely-

_Oh_.

Arthur could feel his face cloud over, as he rummaged around his pockets for the master-key he was given as a Queen.

_Surely_, he thought to himself, getting more irritated with every passing second, _surely he wouldn't be that irresponsible as to-_

The door slid open smoothly, to reveal an empty room. The stack of papers which had been on the desk were scattered all over the room, and what was left of it fluttered tentatively on the table, by the breeze let in from the open window.

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, the master-key digging into his clenched fist.

"Y-Your highness," the servants stepped through the open door behind him, taking in the sight of the room. "What-"

"The King," Arthur bit out, between gritted teeth, "will be right back."

* * *

><p>It was all considerably dramatic, with Arthur's coat billowing out behind him as he strode - <em>stormed<em> - down the cobbled streets of the lower towns. Townspeople who caught sight of the royal-blue of Arthur's robes stuck their heads out to stare at their new Queen. Their new Queen, who was furiously striding down the streets, barely holding himself back from openly grinding his teeth at the thought of Alfred.

He _knew_ where Alfred would be, but the Lower Towns were buzzing with people and noise, and even though most of the crowd had the right mind to move out of the way for a rather murderous looking Royalty it didn't make the task of searching for Alfred (most probably in his civilian clothes) much easier.

_That child_, his mind kept repeating. _That utter child_.

Arthur (on hindsight, against his better judgment) had expected so much more from Alfred.

Arthur had known Alphonsus since he was a teen - around the same age as Alfred was now - and as hard-headed as Alphonsus could be, Arthur was pretty sure that even he didn't dare pull a stunt like this.

_Git_, Arthur swore in his head. _Childish, stupid git who runs out by himself without a sodding guard, even after what happened that last time and seriously, it hasn't even been a bloody _week _and he forgot?_

_And it's not as if he's free to just- gallivant about as he pleases; he's the King now, he should know that he has his responsibilities and duty to his title and name, _good god, _what was he _thinking_? Was he even thinking at all?_

If Arthur's opinion of Alfred and his sensibilities weren't low enough after That Incident with Alfred's apparent ideas for addressing poverty, they hit a new low _now_, when he had to roam the streets to find the sodding King who had run out of the castle in a childish attempt at escapism.

_Git. Utter git,_ Arthur's mind seethed, as he kicked a stray pebble to skitter across the cobbled roads. _I should not have to act as his_ nanny _of all things,_ Arthur thought. The idea, linked to the memories of more than a decade ago before The Great Movement, repulsed him in so many ways; ways which he didn't want to examine too carefully. Days in the palace, with Alphonsus and Mathilda (the Queen then, wife to Alphonsus and mother to Matthew and Alfred), before war and misery hit. Before the Kingdom began to fall apart under the still, accusing, finger of Aequitas. Days when _The Royal Guard_ was just a fancy title and position, a name to a job of watching the two young princes play in the gardens, of a kind of distanced happiness which Arthur became used to (_- shouldn't_ have gotten used to).

And Alfred's actual _youth_ suddenly hit him like a punch to a gut. Nineteen, Arthur double checked, counting the years gone past, and good god, King already_. Alphonsus hadn't even gotten his own issues straight at that age, and the Kingdom wasn't even in this state-_

It wasn't as if he had no sympathy for the current situation Alfred was in, Arthur realised (albeit a little belatedly); it was a difficult situation to deal with even for an experienced King, let alone someone who was shoved onto the throne suddenly.

_But-_ the voice in his head continued, anger and rage and pure annoyance radiating from deep in his stomach, _That doesn't mean that he can just shrug off responsibility like that and not bother to_-

"So you're sure it's been about two years?"

Arthur automatically turned to the sound of Alfred's voice, an alley away. There, dressed in the same clothes which he wore on his previous escapade out of the castle, a newsboy cap that obscured half of his facial features in its shadow, was said King Arthur had been fuming about for the past hour or so. He was talking to a middle-aged woman - a shop keeper, presumably, with her apron greased and grey - standing with her hip cocked against the doorframe.

"Well," she frowns, "it's been about that long since my Katie had started having stomach problems." The woman sighs, running a hand through her short, curled hair, tugging at it frustratedly. "Y'know how Kate can be, running around with all them boys, gettin' into god knows what- The doctors don't know what's wrong with her," she muttered. "She's- She's okay now but he said that if it continues..."

Alfred hesitated, before putting an arm around the older woman. "I'm sorry, Mrs Waters. I'm sure Katie will be fine. We'll- I'll-" Alfred paused, biting his lip. "I'll ask around to see if anyone knows of a cure or something."

Mrs Waters gave a wavering laugh, more than a little affected. "You can try, sweetie," she patted Alfred on the back. "But we've been looking for a reason for years and..." She shrugged, with the kind of reluctant acceptance that only came with time,

"And nothing."

Arthur watched Alfred's back tighten, as he straightened a little in what seemed to be determination.

"We'll find it!" He declared, turning to face Mrs Waters. "I swear we will! Not just for Katie, for all those other people who are falling sick too- I just asked Mr Lancaster down Oaken Bend whose mother is sick too and-" His face steeled itself, jaw clenching in a subtle tightening of facial muscles,

"And we'll find a cure. I swear."

Mrs Waters' face softened, patting at Alfred's shoulder again, albeit slightly patronizingly. "I'm sure you will, Alex," she smiled, eyes soft around the edges at this boy who wanted to save the lower district, who was so confident that he could, but Arthur was pretty sure that she was thinking that he was just a boy, just another boy who lived around the corner and couldn't possibly do anything of that scale.

And Arthur realized that she was wrong, on all counts.

"You're looking for more information, yes?" she asked, cocking her head slightly. "The Schivers from down the road- You know, the ones who run that metalwork shop?- could help you, maybe. I heard that old Tony's wife was having skin problems or something like that- Jon-something?"

"Jaundice?" Alfred asked.

"Ah yes, maybe that. But Tony was saying something about some other problems too so..." She sighed again, rubbing at her face. "Don't know. Sorry, love."

"No, no, don't apologize," Alfred scrambled, eyes wide. "You've helped a ton already, thanks," he grinned.

Mrs Waters smiled back at him. "So you'll come by when I've baked a new batch then? Seeing as that's the only time I ever see you," she joked, walking back into the shop.

Alfred laughed, rubbing at the back of his head. "Aw, shucks, I come by more often than that!"

"You have other things to do, I know," she smiled, pinching at his cheeks. "Probably out chasin' skirts or something, aren't you!" Alfred laughed again, easy and light, as if it were the truth.

"No m'am! I'm gonna save the Kingdom!"

"You go do that then!" Mrs Waters shouted, from inside the shop.

* * *

><p>Arthur spent the next few hours tailing Alfred, mentally cursing himself for not throwing on his cloak first before coming out, because god knows how terribly difficult it was to tail someone when everyone stopped and turned to look at you because of the clothes you were wearing. He stopped to buy a grey cloak which he threw over his jarring robes, and glared very hard at the shopkeepers in case they tried to ask him any difficult questions to answer. It was considerably easier to follow behind Alfred after that, the hood of the cloak pulled low over his head just in case ("Those <em>eyebrows<em>! It's the Queen isn't it!").

Alfred went from house to house, workshop to workshop, talking to smiths and mechanics and various shopkeepers and owners. The number of people ill was alarming, Arthur had to admit. The reports that reached him _had_ mentioned several cases of illnesses that had the doctors puzzled, but they lacked in details, and the number tallied was definitely much less than the numbers that came out of Alfred's rounds on foot. Arthur had only managed to deduce that there was a chance that it was due to the poor living conditions, which he _was_ trying to improve in the first place.

"So, anything?"

Alfred's final stop was a workshop along the outskirts of the Lower Town. The sun was setting, shop owners were packing up and businesses were closing down. The crowd had more or less dispersed, and Arthur only dared to close the distance after he was convinced that Alfred wasn't interested in anything else other than the cup of hot chocolate in his hands and the two young men in front of him.

"Everything." Alfred made a face, sipping from the cup as he waved his free hand around in the air, "There's just too much. It's springing up everywhere. Some of the more common problems are skin infections, stomach problems and throwing up... but then there are the people who have really high fever and are slightly delirious. Someone's gone blind, and a few others have reported coughing up blood." He leaned back against the wooden work table behind him, "I mean, I dunno. They all work in different places, go to different places, eat different things... I can't think up anything that links them up other than the fact that they're sick!"

"Well," the black-haired male who had asked Alfred the question in the first place crossed his arms across his chest, "that means we should try to ask a different question. We've not heard about this affecting anywhere else other than the Lower Towns, so, conspiracy theories put to one side, what makes the Lower Town special?"

"Errr..." Alfred scrunched his face up, "I dunno. It's on the outskirts of the city center? So you guys are closer to the fields. Maybe it's something from the outside or something."

"I don't think so," the blonde next to Alfred piped in, chewing on a mouthful of bread. He swallowed, "I went around just now, since Al asked. Checked with a few of the farmers who live out there. They're fine."

"Could be something that spreads through a host-carrier. Maybe bugs or rats. We've got a lot of those." The black-haired male gave a shrug of his shoulders and leaned back in the chair that he was seated in.

"Nope. Merchants from the higher estates come here quite often to exchange goods and sell stuff. If it's that it should at least have affected one or two of them."

"Or they got lucky," Alfred supplied helpfully. "Sometimes it's like that?"

"A little too lucky to completely not get affected by it. You're fine too aren't you? And you came down pretty much twice a week before you got crowned King." Leaning back further in his seat, the man tapped his foot irritably against the wooden floor of the workshop, "It's something that managed to be contained within the Lower Town. Prolonged exposure, let's say. Can't be something airborne because that can't be contained this well."

"- Well..." Alfred scrunched his face up further. Then he paused. "_Well_!"

"Well what?"

"No no, I don't mean _that_ well! I mean... you know-"

"Will." The other man seemed to get it, leaping out of his seat and running over to rummage around in the nearby drawers. He pulled out a rolled up scroll of paper, spreading it across the table in front of them. "The wells. Which ones are the ones that we get our water from."

Will's eyes widened in surprise. "Geesh Al! Didn't know you were _that_ smart! I mean, I totally expected Josh to get it before you but-"

"The wells, Will."

"... Yessir."

Arthur watched, rather impressed, as the three young men gathered around the map, marking out various locations on the map and absorbed in heated discussion. _Wells_. That made sense. The Lower Town got their water from a few wells around the area, but if he didn't remember wrongly, all of them came from the same source. The higher estates got their water through the plumbing system, which was pumped in from a different river.

_Which means_, Arthur dragged out a mental map of the Spades Kingdom, _the problem area would be-_

"Aha!" came the triumphant exclamation as Alfred slammed his cup down rather conclusively onto the table. "All the wells come from here!" He pointed to an area on the map.

Factory area, Arthur's mind piped in, recognizing the direction Alfred was pointing at. It was where all the heavier industries were located. He had not been in the Kingdom when they were built, but it was all over the Diamond Kingdom, which had been affected by the air and water pollution generated from the factories that churned out all the advanced technology and war machines that Alphonsus had poured the Kingdom's money into.

"Water pollution." Josh snorted, as Alfred spat the hot chocolate out onto the floor. Will frowned at him disapprovingly, as Josh continued. "As if we weren't aware of that. Must be something that managed to bypass the filter system." He eyed the hot chocolate on the workshop floor. "And relax, from what it seems, it takes a long time for the water to actually culminate in illnesses like what we see today."

"Could be a faulty filter system too," Alfred muttered, wiping at his mouth. "Read about something like that in one of the papers Arthur had me sign. We're fixing that now, but the damage has probably been done already."

_Huh. So the git was reading what I've passed him? _

Alfred put the cup down, rubbing at his face with both hands. "There are hundreds of people in the lower districts with this illness now. That means hundreds who can't work, can't earn a living through the development projects and-"

Josh and Will watched him, as his words cut off of his own accord.

"Al?" Will asked, a hand coming up to rest at Alfred's shoulder.

"I have to go," Alfred blurted, looking up. "Look, thanks for all your help, sorry I can't pay you guys for your time or anything but-"

"Aw what," grinned Will. "It was fun. Not much chance to go out to the country usually, not with Josh refusing to be at the front of the store and-"

"The maps," Josh cut in, handing Alfred the rolled up parchments, rolling his eyes at Will. "You'd probably have your own as King, but these mark out the areas which we've surveyed today so..."

"Yeah, thanks Josh," Alfred grinned, picking them up. He waved his free hand at the spilled hot chocolate, "sorry about that, do you want me to-"

"Nah, go about your Kingly duties now, and stop bothering with us common folk," Will laughed, picking up a mop. "The press would have a field day: KING MOPS WORKSHOP FLOOR," he joked, as Josh cracked a grin as well.

Alfred laughed, stepping over the mess, clutching all the rolls of paper. "Thanks again guys!" He shouted, before running out of the shop, up the sloping hill, back to the castle.

Arthur, slightly dazed by the day's events and findings and Alfred, follows him back, albeit at a slower pace.

_Well,_ he thought. _That... Changes things a little, _he told himself. _Just a little._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**  
>So there's chapter three! We have new reference sketches of Alphonsus and Mathilda (Alfred and Matthew's parents, the old King and Queen) on our Tumblr now, so please take a look at Hika's pretty sketches! 8D<p>

Thanks for reading again! We know our updates are a little more plot-based/centric than what we're used to writing, but we still hope you guys enjoy them! Comments and concrit are always loved and welcomed. 


	4. Chapter IV

**Chapter IV**

He had mulled over his findings for a few days. The rest was just paperwork. In between signing papers that Matthew and Arthur piled up on him Alfred would pull out the maps and notes that Will and Josh had put together for him, and begin tidying up a report. This was serious. This had to be known.

Three days after his escapade into the Lower Towns, Alfred called for Court. Arthur has raised an eyebrow, but gave in with surprisingly token resistance. It was early morning, his knees had been shaking, but he only stumbled three times in his entire speech, and even though there was a thin sheen of sweat on his palms by the time he was done, Alfred thought (a little shakily) that it was a job well done.

Now all he had to do was to convince them that it was a problem-

"If that's the case I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, my King."

Alfred blanched. Before he had called for court, he had pondered over all possible reactions - even the possibility that they would deny everything about this new illness, and the fact that the root cause was the water pollution caused by the heavy industries on the outskirts of the city - but a calm reaction like this was most definitely not what he was expecting.

"Nothing to worry about...?" He echoed, still confused.

Perhaps this was going to go much smoother than he had predicted. To think that he had even prepared graphs and charts to back his argument up if the need arose-

"If the problem lies in the water supply, the current repair projects would fix that."

Murmurs of agreement sounded around the table. Alfred stared in shock at the men in front of him.

Did they even realise what they were suggesting?

_They know,_ Alfred felt his heart drop down, crashing into the depths of his stomach, _They know exactly what they're suggesting._ This was the Court of the Spades Kingdom, and they didn't care what was happening to the people. It didn't matter to them what happened to the _people_-

"If the cause was something else it'd be more trouble..."

"But since the Queen is already solving the current water issue we can be grateful that the problem will not worsen anymore-"

"Are you telling me to _leave_ the ones who are already sick alone?" _This is bad, I need to stop_, Alfred thought to himself, but by then he had already slammed his fists into the dark wood of the table top. "There are _hundreds_ of people in the Lower Towns who are currently suffering from an illness they do not know about, that no doctors can cure, that no amount of money can rid them off-" He breathed in, hearing the slight wheeze of air rushing in through his windpipe. "And you are telling me to let them die? How are you- how can you even call yourselves the Court when you don't give a damn about what happens to the people-"

"Alfred."

The rest of his sentence caught in his throat. Alfred swallowed, trying very hard _not_ to look at the source of the cool voice that interrupted him. _Not now, Arthur, goddamnit if it's a lecture it can wait till later-_

Alfred tried his best to give Arthur his not-pleased-at-all look as _his Queen_ (and god how terrible that sounded) stood up and cleared his throat.

Alfred waited. He was ready to fight it out this time - in front of the entire court if he had to. If Arthur even dared to side the court or reprimanded his "inappropriate behavior" he would-

"As the King has pointed out, it isn't right to ignore the current spread of the illness. More than a hundred people in the Lower Towns have showed symptoms, but if it's the long term exposure to such toxic waste more casualties might surface even after the filters and water ways have been fixed and repaired." Arthur ignored the displeased muttering that sounded in the room and instead shot Alfred a sideways glare. Probably because Alfred was currently staring at him wide-eyed and slack-jawed and most certainly did not look anywhere near _kingly_. __

"I propose we reconsider our ties with the neighbouring Kingdoms."

"What? Are you suggesting-"

"Actually I beg your pardon, that was the wrong use of the word. We _are_ going to reconsider our ties with the neighbouring Kingdoms. The Spade Kingdom used to flourish with healthy trade relations with the Diamond and Heart Kingdoms. With the current illness spreading amongst the citizens it would seem only natural to consult the Heart Kingdom for their assistance."

"But-"

"As far as relations go, I do believe they are still quite in need of our technology. It wouldn't be a one-sided negotiation on our side. Afterall when Alphonsus broke off the previous alliance I heard that they had been unwilling to lose us as an ally." Arthur smiled, green eyes flashing once around the table, "The King and I will be planning a trip down shortly."

"We will?" Alfred said, incredulous.

"Yes we will." came the snorted reply, "I will only be taking a very small group of guards with us. It will be a diplomatic visit, friendly and completely sincere on our part." At this, Arthur turned back to Alfred, an eyebrow quirked in expectation.

"Oh. Uhm. Yes." Alfred hurriedly tried his best to act like he caught on. "What Arthur said. We will be uhm, paying the Heart Kingdom a diplomatic visit sometime... next.. week?" A nod from Arthur told him that it was alright to continue. "And with that court is adjourned! In other words, I'm not accepting any objections to this! We're making sure the sick receive proper treatment, and that's it!"

* * *

><p>"What <em>happened<em> to you?" Alfred asked when the courtroom finally emptied itself of displeased Lords and Earls and Whatnots. He realised that he was probably being terribly rude, but it was most definitely _Arthur's_ fault for acting completely out of it.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that question?"

"Well, I dunno, you were kinda... being..." Alfred struggled to find the most appropriate word, "_Nice_?" He tried, grinning sheepishly at the resulting glare from Arthur.

"Thank you for your affirmation of my general nastiness."

"No no! I didn't mean it that way! W-well maybe I kinda _did_ but-" Alfred gestured helplessly at the air around him, in hopes that perhaps Arthur would somehow understand what he was trying to say by reading how his hands flapped around. "_Y'know_!"

"No, I do not." Arthur sighed, rubbing at his temples. "I merely thought that what you were suggesting wasn't entirely ridiculous this time. Besides," he gave a shrug of his shoulders at that, "It is crucial for us to rebuild the diplomatic relations with the other Kingdoms that your father chose to break down. It isn't possible to be self-sufficient and still thrive given the nature of this Kingdom."

He straightened out his robes, throwing another glance at Alfred with his hand on the doorknob, "... we'll talk more about the trip on the morrow."

* * *

><p>"The Morrow", to Alfred's dismay, didn't exactly start out too well. He <em>hadn't<em> been expecting it to start or end well, envisioning one of their usual quarrels exploding in the middle of discussion (as Alfred had more or less learnt over the past weeks, putting Arthur and him in the same room usually resulted in very unproductive sessions that involved both of them trying to overpower each other's voiceboxes) leading to Arthur slamming the door in his face and most possibly doing all the planning and logistics for the trip himself. He had even prepared himself for the possibility that Arthur might just suddenly decide that he was "still too much of a kid" (god, the resentment that came with that thought) and leave him behind with piles of boring papers.

He had not, however, prepared himself for _this._

The first explosion sounded one hour before he was supposed to be awake, loud enough to jerk him out of the sleep that usually took more than a few shakes from the servants before he would grudgingly climb out of bed.

The second explosion sounded much too close to the first.

Alfred stumbled out of his bed, feet nearly tangling in the sheets that he had kicked onto the floor in his sleep. He skidded halfway, palms landing against the cool glass of his bedroom window, swinging them open by the hinges, choking in the chilled dust of the morning air.

Two columns of smoke rose into the air, jarringly black against the grey monotone of the sky. The Lower Towns, Alfred's brain registered, but _why_?

He grabbed for his coat, pulling it on hastily as he threw open his bedroom doors. "What's going on!" he demanded, grabbing at a nearby maidservant before she could continue with her flustered rushing down the corridors.

"Y-your highness!" The maidservant's eyes were wide in shock, probably due to the fact that she had actually walked past the King without taking a curtsy. She gathered her skirts in an awkward bow. "T-the Lower Towns, I'm not sure what happend but I think there's an explosion- O-oh god my brother's there and I'm not too sure but the Queen is currently organizing the army-"

"A riot!" Someone else called out from the other side of the corridor. "They're rioting in the Lower Towns!"

"They're _what?_ But why?" He didn't bother to wait for an answer. Arthur was organizing the _army_? What was he going to do? March them down the streets and plough through all the civilians?

"This is an order! Not a single soldier is allowed the leave the castle, even with the Queen's words! Make sure every single person in the castle knows this!" The maidservant, more than startled at the sudden task placed upon her (she was only in charge of _wiping_ the windows, not passing messages directly from the _King_-), nodded shakily before rushing down the corridors, passing the message on to other maids and servants on the way. Alfred gritted his teeth. Was he going to be on time?

He ran back into his room, only to grab his boots before he rushed off again, trying not to crash into alarmed servants on his way. If Arthur was organizing the army he'd be somewhere in the courtyard, which meant that so long as he could get there before they left the castle-

"A-Al? What are you-"

"Mattie! Stop Arthur for me!" The exclamation, Alfred realised as he dashed past Matthew, was probably redundant, considering how his twin wasn't going to catch up with him at this speed. He shoved his way through the main doors, ignoring the poor guards who didn't know if they should stop him or open the doors for him or tell him not to run (because what if he tripped and fell?), barreling through the back row of the soldiers as the chill of the morning greeted him face first - and god, the _soldiers_, Arthur was really going to-

"Stop!"

The men around him took around three seconds to react to the fact that a body had just crashed into them, and realise (in horror) that said body was the King. They spread out on both sides, clearing a path for him before hurriedly lowering their weapons and falling onto one knee.

"Your highness-"

"Arthur!" Alfred gasped, hungry for air. Somewhere in the distance, another loud explosion sounded. It was getting closer now, along with the feeble shouts and screams that the wind carried along. "Y-you- what do you think you're doing-" He approached Arthur shakily, still trying to gather enough air in his lungs so that he could _shout_ at him, him and his ridiculous eyebrows, because he couldn't be thinking of sending the _army_ out, not at the _people_-

Arthur - much to Alfred's annoyance - simply crossed his arms and regarded him coolly with a raised eyebrow. "There are people rioting in the Lower Towns. Something about the Government being the cause of all their problems and the sickness, and how the rebuilding projects are just another plot to exploit them as workers or something. As much as I'd like to leave them alone they're destroying the things their own fellow citizens have spent much effort building up. We'd have to interfere if we're going to-"

"No!" Alfred inhaled again, rather pleased at how loud he was in the otherwise unmoving silence of the courtyard, "You can't- not- I mean, I understand what you're getting at but not- not now. Please. I'll go talk to them."

"You'll-" Arthur blanched, eyes comically wide. "You'll _what_?"

"Talk to them! They'll listen, trust me! I-I mean, if I explain to them that we know what's going on with the sickness, and that we're gonna get a cure for them, they'll understand-" He pushed past Arthur, breaking into a run for the gates of the castle. "And then they'll stop!"

Even with the distance between them, he could hear Arthur's exasperated sigh ("That bloody git-"), but he couldn't be bothered, not at the moment, not if the alternative was to give Arthur enough time to regroup and actually send the army out-

"AND NONE OF YOU-" he bellowed over his shoulder at the group of soldiers, for good measure, "NONE OF YOU ARE ALLOWED THE LEAVE THE FUCKING CASTLE!"

* * *

><p>That. Utter. Git.<p>

Arthur cursed his lack of vocabulary, because god could vouch for him that he had been using those three words _way_ too often ever since he became Queen. However, there was no other more apt way to put it, and he resorted to repeating it in his head three more times before he turned back to the soldiers.

_The poor, confused men,_ he thought to himself, feeling a tiny twinge of sympathy at the poor soldiers who looked to him for advice.

"M-my Queen, surely we cannot let him-" The first worried man spoke up.

"You idiot!" The redhead next to him gave him an elbow to the chest, "The King said we can't leave-"

"But he's going out there _alone_-"

Arthur emptied out his lungs in a drawn out sigh, and wished that he could empty out exasperation as easily as that.

"We can't have the army appearing when that git's probably going to do one of his 'we don't want to hurt anyone' speeches. It'd ruin the effect." He rolled his eyes, noticing how some of the soldiers looked even more confused at that. "All of you are to be on standby for further instructions from _me_. I'll go for the git."

_Before he does all of us a favour and gets himself killed_, Arthur thought to himself darkly.

* * *

><p>The downward slope dragged him forward, his feet slammed against the cobbled ground much faster than they wanted to. Alfred didn't bother to watch the ground. Instead he kept his eyes trained on the columns of smoke in the near distance. It wasn't too far from here, it couldn't be - he could hear the shouts and screams and they were getting clearer each step he took.<p>

_Why did they have to do this? _His mind chanted, a desperate mantra of questions. There was no need to hurt the other civilians. No reason for them to tear down the infrastructure that was going to _help_.

"STOP!"

It was, Alfred had to admit, a rather stupid thing to do. He had only realised the fact that he was completely unarmed when he saw the crowd armed with their various makeshift weapons and torches. At the back of his head, the nasty little voice that was starting to sound a lot like Arthur lately was chiding him for his stupidity.

_On top of that,_ it snickered, _that was a really miserable way to appear in front of an angry mob._

The crowd in front of him stopped rather abruptly, anger disappearing from their faces for a moment only to be replaced by confusion.

"What- what do you think you're doing, kid?"

"It's the _King_ you idiot!"

"What? Really?"

This, Alfred decided, was going to be a problem that he had to remedy very soon. Nevertheless, he tried to convince himself that it wasn't all that bad - after all he was in his _pajamas_, and that probably wasn't at all Kingly of him - and cleared his throat,

"Please, you guys need to stop!"

"And why should we listen to you!" Someone called out from amongst the crowd. A roar of approval sounded from the rest of them. "It's not like you know how it's like in that comfortable castle of yours! Bet your siblings and friends are all healthy and not coughing out blood in bed!"

"Look, it's going to be alright, we're already-"

"Planning a way to shut us up?"

"_No_! Why would we want to do that?"

"Because that's what you guys do isn't it? Hah, even all those rebuilding projects! You make it sound so beautiful and glorious but it's just cheap labour isn't it!"

"What- _No_! Arthur made sure the working conditions were-"

"And then secretly you're going to kill us with some new disease!"

Rising exasperation in his chest told Alfred that they weren't listening, were not going to give him a chance to explain-

"Get out of the way or we'll knock you down, boy King!"

"HEY- Hey wait-"

But wait they did not.

A few of the men at the front of the crowd charged. In the frenzy of the moment, Alfred's brain bewilderingly noted: axe, stick, something that looked like a butcher's knife. The little voice in his head that was probably a perfect imitation of Arthur by now was mocking him for forgetting his sword.

_But if I turn around and run now-_

Alfred tugged at his feet, realising helplessly that they were firmly planted to the ground. _Fuck, when did I become such a sissy I can't even move out of the way-_

A strange sense of dejavu washed over him. No, this wasn't right. This wasn't fear. His feet _were_ firmly planted to the ground, but that was because his body _wouldn't_ budge, and the last time this happened was when-

_Arthur-_

"GIT! What the hell am I supposed to do with you! _Ground_ you?" The first axe blow was blocked and easily shoved aside because Arthur had the obvious advantage of surprise (judging from the man's face as he lost his balance and fell on his back), the man with the stick kicked in the knees before he could put said stick to good use, and sword met butcher's knife with a sound _clang_ before Alfred realised he could move again.

"Arth- _What_- I told you to stay in the castle!"

Arthur growled, "Yes, and you are in the perfect position to refuse help." He twisted the stick out of the shocked man's grip and tossed it at Alfred, "After all I suppose your pajamas are impenetrable and your bare hands can render an angry mob immobile."

"Well- I-" Alfred caught the stick, very much aware that if Arthur didn't come, there was a chance that his short life spanning nineteen years would have ended in the next few minutes. Instead, he made a few more noises, spluttered a few more meaningless words, and settled into a permanent pout. He blocked a blow from a make-shift club with the (surprisingly sturdy) stick that came from his right, striking his assailant in the stomach with his fist. "Oh shit- Sorry!"

The rest of the crowd, enraged at the sudden introduction of violence, exploded into what Alfred could only describe as Pure Chaos, for lack of a better, more eloquent term. Something sharp grazed his right arm, but he side-stepped the next blind tackle from a man twice his size, raising his stick-

-only to find himself stuck temporarily in that position for a few seconds-

-and then he was released, though the extra force he had put in instinctively in an attempt to break out of the hold he was previously in threw him off course and into another angry man instead.

"Arthur for god's sake stop-"

-and then time froze again, this time lasting for longer than five seconds before Alfred found himself stumbling backwards, barely making it in time to stop a blow from - was that a frying pan - with the stick in his hands.

"We're not here to fight! And if you _hurt_ them I swear I will- GAH-"

Once more another lock, this time in the middle of a side-step, and Alfred realised that he felt like crying for the first time in many many years, because he knew what was going to happen when Arthur unfroze time-

-his foot landed on the ground a little too forcefully, but he managed to catch himself before he fell flat on his face-

"Please! Just listen to me we're not here to fight-" Alfred inhaled, "Oh for god's sake, LISTEN TO ME!"

Another man fell to the ground in front of him after Arthur dealt a chop to the back of his neck. The rest of the crowd had stopped moving, considering how several of their frontline men were now curled up on the wet cobbled streets, groaning in pain.

"Now," Arthur said, dusting himself off with the composure of a man who had _not_ just disarmed a group of ten angry men, "Will you all kindly listen to your King?"

"Hiding behind your Queen again?" One of the men taunted, but backed down when Arthur held him at sword point.

"You're doing a very strange thing," Arthur continued, sheathing his sword, "Going against the one person who _will_ listen to all of you." The rest of the mob fell silent at that, probably more threatened by Arthur than anything else.

_Did Arthur just-_

"Well?" Arthur was looking at him, green eyes spelling out exasperation and 'Do I really have to do this?' but also something else Alfred couldn't put a finger on, "You had something to say didn't you?"

Alfred froze for a moment, Arthur-made-freeze non-withstanding, swallowing the lump in his throat. As much as he'd run out of the castle in his pajamas, wanting so desperately to talk to the people, he had no idea of what he should _actually say_ when he got to them.

"Um." The crowd stared at him, unimpressed.

"Look I-" Alfred started, catching Arthur's eye in the process, and the expression he had on seemed so close to condescending once again that for a brief, intense moment, he _hated_ that they could go back to that.

"I HAVE FRIENDS SUFFERING TOO, ALRIGHT?" He shouted, irritated in the moment, at this group of people, his people, who knew everything and yet nothing about him. "One of my friends is out there, and he was already ill enough before this but this- This _thing _is affecting him too and he can't keep his food down and-"

"And the point is that I _know_," Alfred cried, waving his hands about exasperatedly, brushing at the physicality of larger ideals and a hundred assorted lives of hardship spread in front of him. "I _know_ what this is, and what's happening and I want to help you guys, I want to help the whole kingdom really _really_ badly. I know things are in pretty bad shape right now-" assorted murmurs from the crowd echoed through the night, as Alfred pushed through, "-But we're working on it, I swear! W-We really are! We're going to find a cure for this illness in the Heart Kingdom-" Alfred cast a slightly desperate look at Arthur, who nodded at him, expression unreadable. He felt himself breathe a little easier.

"-And then we're going to use it to cure everyone! A-And we'll improve living conditions, I promise! You guys have to believe us, we're trying our best, and we're going to make everyone's lives better, you just have to give us some time! We're working to improve water sanitation and general hygiene, especially in the lower districts! We're gonna try to develop cleaner technology for the factories so that pollution goes down and everything's going to be so much better I swear you just have to-"

"FUCKING BULLSHIT!" One of the men on the floor snarled, spitting in the direction of Alfred's boot. He wiped the blood trickling from his nose, half-pushing himself up into a better position. "ALL OF IT," he shouted, as the amassed people directed their attention to him, some pushing forward to look. "We've all heard all of your drivel, your idealistic shop talk- Your sodding _father_ did it too, and look where that left us!"

"We need action!" Another man in the crowd shouted, looking back up to glare at Alfred. "Not your childish, empty talk, _King,_" he spat.

"I-it's not empty talk! Really, I swear we're going to-"

Alfred winced at the sharp pain that grazed his right cheek. Next to him a pebble skidded to a stop.

"Go back home, _King_! We don't need you here!"

He stared, half-dazed, as a few more people bent down to pick up pebbles as well. Arthur was moving towards him, shouting something over the chants of the crowd, but Alfred couldn't really hear what he was saying until-

The silence that followed the freeze in time rang painful in his ears. Arthur grabbed him by the arm, and then suddenly he could move again.

"Had a feeling that was going to happen," Arthur mumbled under his breath, giving his arm a sharp tug as he began the painful ascend up the slope, "Let's get back before you get pelted to death by pebbles."

He didn't seem to mind the fact that Alfred kept his mouth shut for the entire journey back to the castle, even as the Time Freeze wore off when they passed the gates, even as Arthur gave the instructions to the rest of the army to interfere so as to minimize damage to infrastructure and other uninvolved civilians before dragging him off to the infirmary.

* * *

><p>"I can do it myself, y'know," huffed Alfred as he sat down on the stool unwillingly.<p>

The castle infirmary was empty, save for Arthur and Alfred, after the former had shooed out the fretting (and thus unhelpful) nurse, who apparently had a son in the lower district, and was worrying about his safety. Which left Arthur self-appointedly in-charge, as he forced Alfred to sit down to get patched up, as _obviously that git can't do it right by himself,_ if what Arthur was mumbling under his own breath was of any clue.

Still petulantly pouting at being treated like a scraped up child, Alfred scuffed his boots against the white tile, as he shrugged off his coat, leaving him sitting in his pajamas.

Arthur turned around, unimpressed looking and voice dry. "Really."

"Apply this ointment on the bruise on your arm then," he said, handing Alfred a small pot of pale green glass.

Alfred blinked, checking his arms for the first time. "What bruise are you even-"

Arthur walked (even his _footsteps_ sounded dry and utterly unimpressed) behind him to press his fingers at Alfred's upper bicep, as Alfred hissed in pain. "Right, right okay, got it, you can spot bruises which I can't, fine, let me just-" He craned his neck around in attempt to get a good view of the bruise, dabbing at it gingerly with the fingers of his left hand.

Behind him, he heard Arthur snort.

"What," he asked, sarcastic and a little more biting than was probably necessary, on hindsight. "I can't even put ointment on right now?" In his defense, the day had been a long one and oh god it wasn't even ten in the morning yet.

"Well, you could do it better, I suppose," Arthur murmured, as Alfred felt warm, callused fingers rub at the bruise next to his own, and it was startling and almost impossible, he felt, to note the tinge of strangely placed affection in his voice. "You're supposed to rub the ointment in, you see. To make it work faster."

Alfred nodded blindly, his own fingers falling back to his lap, focusing on the slow burn of Arthur's fingers working the bruise. The slow, soothing rub of an unfamiliar, slightly smaller hand, as Alfred felt himself slump slightly, back relaxed from it's previous tautness, and suddenly weary beyond what he felt of his nineteen years, the events of the morning coming back to him.

His people's words coming back to him.

Alfred closed his eyes, sighing.

He felt Arthur's fingers remove themselves, then the smart click of the heels of his boots round about to his front. A considering click of his tongue, and Arthur walked a little further away, to the cabinets, presumably, to fetch something else.

Alfred felt like a failure. A King who has to be patched up by his Queen, he thought to himself, bitter. _A King who can't stop his own people from rioting, who's too idealistic and young_. Alfred felt himself guiltily sink into the comfort of self-deprecation.

"Remove your glasses." Alfred opened his eyes to the sight of Arthur, a pair of tweezers clamping a cotton ball in his hands. "To clean the cut on your cheek." Doing as he was told, Alfred folded them into his lap, eying the cotton ball, which seemed to have been soaked in a pale violet liquid of some kind.

He bit in a hiss of pain as Arthur dabbed at the shallow cut.

"It hurts," he whined, disappointingly and inherently childlike, wincing at the sting.

"It needs to be disinfected, you know that."

Alfred frowned, and he could just _feel_ the petulant nature of his own expression, but was powerless to help it. Couldn't help being the _child_- And how he _hated_ that word- that he apparently was.

_A King who can't actually do anything without the damn Queen_, he thought to himself.

What sort of shitty King am I, he mused, replacing his glasses. "I'm not even sure if I can do this job right, who are they to believe me?" He muttered to himself.

"Yes, you're an awful king," Arthur said, as dry as ever, and Alfred felt himself flush in embarrassment. Had he really been that loud? He really hadn't wanted anyone, least of all Arthur, to hear that. And to hear his dry, not-quite-sarcastic affirmation felt like the slow, aching burn of his bruise.

"You're too impulsive, you run off doing things without any regard for anyone else, you're too idealistic," Arthur clinically stated, as he shifted away to pack up the supplies. "You don't look at things practically or realistically enough, which causes problems for everyone around. And you don't have the experience or expertise to turn your ideas into actions-"

_Okay, okay_, Alfred wanted to say, wanted to literally curl himself up defensively. _I got it_, he wanted to mutter, Arthur's words cutting close to the wick of the matter.

"-But you-" Arthur paused, back to Alfred, as he looked up. "But," he paused again, consideringly, as if only thinking about the meaning of his own words right then.

"But that's what I'm here for, isn't it?" And was a question as much as it was a statement for the both of them, as Arthur turned around, eyebrows furrowing.

Alfred licked his own dry lips. "It is?"

"As the Queen," Arthur said almost musingly, "my duty is to... Help you run the kingdom. And I-" Alfred watched Arthur swallow.

"-And I think it's important for a King to truly care about his country." His cheeks pink in the early morning light, and a far, distant part of Alfred, seperate from the sections of him labeled "King" goes _oh_.

"And so... No," Arthur admitted, looking out the window. "I don't think you're an awful King." And Alfred realized that this might be Arthur's strangely backwards way of giving something remotely close to a compliment.

"S-So," Arthur coughed awkwardly, shuffling slightly as if he had no idea what to do with himself. "I'll just go... Check on the situation of the riot and such." As he inched his way to the doors of the infirmary, Alfred caught his sleeve at the last moment, much to their collective surprise.

"You're a good Queen too, y'know," Alfred blurted, releasing his sleeve hastily. Arthur just stared down at him blankly. "Just um, saying. That- You're a good Queen too, efficient and all, and good with paperwork and-" _Oh god what am I even saying_, and Arthur managed to blush even more. "-And I mean, maybe you could work on some things, like being less stodgy and maybe with that whole time-freeze thing, 'cause when you do that it kinda throws me off balance after the actual freeze, and it's really difficult to control what happens after you-"

"Hold on," Arthur interrupted, eyebrows furrowing. "What did you just say?"

"Um. Be less stodgy? Maybe?" Alfred tried, grinning a little helplessly because _dammit maybe that __was a bit much maybe he can't help it and-_

"No, idiot," Arthur said briskly. "The other one, about, ah... Freezing?"

"Oh," Alfred blinked. That was one of the last things that he expected Arthur to pick on. "Um. Maybe you could... Give me some warning before you do your time magic thing?" He paused, narrowing his eyes. "It _is_ time magic stuff, right? The thing where I suddenly can't move, but you still can, and you go about doing whatever it is before you unfreeze us again?"

Arthur walked back to him, steps slow and strangely precise, his eyes focusing, scrutinizing Alfred. "You can tell when I stop time?"

"Um," Alfred stumbled. "W-Well yeah? I mean, I can't move or anything but-"

"But you're not- You-" Arthur was squinting at his face now, and Alfred really wanted to tell him that it was rather uncomfortable, but the Time Mage was so intent on staring him down it felt like it wasn't appropriate to interrupt.

"This changes things." Arthur mused aloud, "... Sit down, git. We need to talk."

* * *

><p><span><strong>AN:**  
>Hello again! Sorry for the late-ish update, still, we hope you enjoyed this longer chapter! Comments and concrit is always loved and welcome, and thank all of you guys for adding SOD to your alerts and favourite lists and stuff! :D<p>

As a side note, Heartstring Doujin pre-orders are officially CLOSED. Thank you all for your support! Also, since Cass is going on vacation, Chapter 5 of SOD will only be up a little before New Year's! Sorry for the wait, and thanks for your patience and support again. Happy holidays!


	5. Chapter V

**Chapter V**

The blade came at him from his right. Left foot stumbling backwards, Alfred braced himself and brought his own sword up to meet it. Metal clanged against metal, and for that brief moment he noted his own advantage; the other sword was thrown back a lot further than his own, giving him a slight opening to exploit.

Slamming a foot forward, he swung the sword and-

-magically stuck. Again. _Dammit._

He was released from the hold three seconds later, after Arthur had _danced_ (the bastard) out of reach, and found himself stumbling forward, his foot tripping from the momentum of his previous struggle, and then the ground came up and met his face and-

"... Ow." he said, for good measure, before shifting his head up so he could pout at Arthur, who picked up the sword that he had dropped in his fall. "Are you sure this is supposed to work?"

"... It technically should be. Are you concentrating?" Arthur held out a hand, which Alfred stared at grudgingly before grabbing at. Arthur dragged him up before handing him his sword. "Come on, let's try this again."

Alfred sighed. His breath came out in a puff of misty white in the chill of the morning air. No one else in the castle was awake at this time - not even the maids who were in charge of making breakfast - and here he was, out in the courtyard with Arthur, armed with a sword. Training.

Aequitas weighed heavy in his coat pocket (the Kingdom's Clock, Arthur had insisted, had some stabilizing or regulating quality over the hectic interference of Time Magic - whatever _that_ meant), his fingers were still not entirely awake, as the chill gnawed at the tip of his nose and his cheeks. But nevertheless Alfred forced himself to keep a firm grip on his sword and attempted to find the "concentration" Arthur talked about.

Only five days had past since the morning Alfred had run out in his pajamas to stop a riot. (Or, as Arthur put it, attempted to stop a riot, since he had obviously failed in the end.) Five days had past since Arthur sat him down and gave him The Talk. And from then onwards every morning was hell. His Queen (and he would think this with as much bitterness and sarcasm in his mental voice as he could) would come crashing through the door each morning, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him half out of bed before throwing him a sword and his clothes.

Then they would head down to the courtyard and spend the rest of the morning practicing what Arthur called Time Adaptibility or whatever else it was. Alfred wasn't entirely sure what made him agree to this hell in the first place, but he had a vague feeling that it was because it had sounded kinda cool when Arthur had first talked about it.

People were, it seemed, not supposed to know when Time had been stopped by a Time Mage. In other words, Arthur had said - solemnly, quietly, and so utterly seriously that Alfred had been tempted to crack a rather stupid joke that would only earn him a cuff on the side of the head - there was no way for Alfred to be able to _see _Time being Frozen, Arthur moving inside frozen time, or even have any consciousness about the fact that Time had stopped.

The thing about Time freezing over, as far as Time Mages were concerned, meant that consciousness was frozen at the same time.

The only people who could still be conscious during a Time Freeze would be Time Mages, or - as Arthur had concluded that Alfred was _not_ a Time Mage after a long and painful session of staring him up and down and even making this big clock poof out of no where so he could do something that Alfred could barely understand - someone with Time Adaptibility.

"It's... complicated." Arthur had said, as if that was supposed to _help_ him understand, or make his confusion go away. "Sometimes it happens in normal humans, where their cogwheels are just tuned slightly different to others, and so they aren't completely affected by our manipulations of time."

Alfred had stared back at him then, and made the most confused face he could at the Time Mage, who simply snorted and crossed his arms,

"When we freeze time around us, we're tapping into the cogwheels around us and telling them to stop by... sending out something like... the right rhythm that resonates with the cogwheels around us."

(This cogwheel thing Arthur spoke about was apparently something that existed in every single object. Normal people couldn't see them, Arthur had explained, and told Alfred to imagine that everything had some invisible gears in them, just like clocks did, that kept their time.

"Even me?" Alfred had asked, vaguely disturbed by the thought of gears grinding together in his stomach, and wondered if some of the stomach aches he got sometimes were the result of rusty gears.

"Even you.")

"In other words," Arthur exhaled, looking rather tired and strained as he tried to explain his own brand of magic to a mere human (to which Alfred indignantly wanted to retort to - it was his _King_, and his _ruling partner_, not just some random normal human being), "Your cogwheels are just... an anomaly. Irregular. They don't resonate with the normal rhythm, which gives you the potential for Anti-Time Magic. It's a rare occurrence, but not entirely unseen."

"You'll need this." Arthur had said, "We'll have to develop it for it to be of any use, but you'll need it." He had opened his mouth then, eyes solemn, as if he had something _else_ to say. Something that would tell Alfred _why_ Arthur thought he would need it, to the point of him being so willing to help Alfred develop something that was just an anomaly. An incomplete anomaly. But Arthur clenched his jaw shut and swallowed it, and for a moment Alfred was left to muse about the reason behind that forced silence.

Of course, his brain found itself distracted onto another path of thought soon after.

"Will it stop me from jamming when you do that time magic thing of yours?"

"Yes."

"I'm in." His answer was immediate.

_Why,_ Alfred asked himself, as he blocked another stab from Arthur's sword, _did I agree to this so easily?_

The next freeze came without warning, in mid-thrust. The familiar sensation of his muscles tightening combined with the burning annoyance (that even _now_ he was still unable to move) in the pits of his stomach made Alfred grit his teeth. His fingers tried to tighten around the grip of his sword, and he tugged, pulled, willed for his body to listen and just _move_-

Still unable to move an inch, Alfred did the last thing he could think of doing. He _whined_.

"I swear this isn't working!"

The hold around him gave way, and Alfred breathed normally again, collapsing into a heap on the ground. "Seriously Arthur, isn't there a better way to deal with this? You know, like some magical spell that you can throw on me so that I can just move around when you-" He paused, looking up at the expression on Arthur's face, some mix of exasperation and wonder and amusement. "What? Why are you- Is it _that_ funny to watch me struggle with your stupid magic?"

"You spoke."

"Well yeah, that's kinda what I do on a daily-" He caught himself mid-sentence, looking up in amazement at Arthur, who was giving him the 'You're terribly slow aren't you' look at the moment (accentuated with, of course, a raised eyebrow). "I spoke," he echoed, the realization sinking into him, voice giving way into a strange, bubbling laugh of triumph. "I SPOKE!" He jumped up, grabbing Arthur and twirling him around once (completely ignoring his protests, which really, were nothing considering the current situation) before dropping him and prancing off to bounce around the courtyard.

"Alfred!" It might have been the wind whistling in his ears, or perhaps the overwhelming sense of victory that took hold of him and refused to let go, that gave him the impression that there was a laugh hidden in Arthur's rather annoyed shout after him. "For god's sake you git get back here! Just being able to talk isn't useful enough!"

* * *

><p>The castle maids had a shared pastime. Of course, it was because they had a limited amount of pastimes they could choose from, given the nature of their work. It wasn't as if Yao, the Jack, was a terrible boss who forced them to work non-stop, but he was still a very efficient man who did everything in his power to ensure that all courtly matters ran like clockwork; even in the kitchens and the laundry room.<p>

Their pastime then, had to ensure that they could work and return to work just in case Yao showed up around the corner.

"Did you hear? The King fell asleep in the meeting today!"

"Again? He's been sleeping a lot lately hasn't he?"

It was, of course, the sharing of the latest news and gossip about the happenings in the castle. In particular, it was interesting news about their King and Queen, probably because they were the only individuals that were exciting enough to gossip about. Yao, for one, didn't seem to be doing anything of interest.

"I walked in on him sleeping that day, when I went to retrieve his lunch tray." One of the maids said, giggling as she heaved the sheets out of the washing basket to hang on the clothesline. "He was drooling on the paperwork."

"Oh, god, he's so cute."

Alfred - though the younger maids refrained from calling him that and played safe by calling him "The King" (the older maids, the ones who were the wetnurses and nannies and washed his bedsheets when he had soiled them in the night, of course, were obligated by the King himself to call him by his name) - was most certainly one of their favorite topics. A young eligible bachelor (though of course, in some circles the maids were convinced they he was now currently Taken by their current Queen) of rather good looks and the most powerful man in the country, small talk about him was definitely more welcome than news about the stable boys and younger footmen or guards.

"He's been sleeping terribly early though. I wonder what's making him tired."

There was a pause, as the other maids put up laundry in companionable silence before one of them spoke up, dropping her voice to a low whisper,

"... Annie said she saw the Queen coming out of the King's room in the morning yesterday. _Early_ morning."

Another pause; this time all hands forgot about the laundry.

"Really? But I thought they insisted on sleeping in separate rooms-"

"Well you never know, maybe they thought it was only appropriate that way-"

"Or maybe they had really intended to in the beginning, but now-"

"They've stopped quarrelling lately haven't they?"

"No, they've just started _bickering_ more. You know, over small matters. It's almost as if they're-"

"Hey! What do you think you are doing, aru! Stop gossiping and start putting up the sheets!" The circle of maids that had gradually started clumping into a circle scattered immediately, each of them trying to keep straight faces as they returned to their respective chores. "The King and Queen are going to be heading over to the Hearts Kingdom tomorrow, so once the laundry is done you are to prepare their belongings for the trip aru. Don't forget to wrap up the presents for the King and Queen of Hearts as well."

"Y-yes sir!"

* * *

><p>"Are we ready, aru?" Yao asked, from the bottom rung on the carriage steps. Alfred and Arthur were already seated inside the plush interior. As the King and Queen, they were to travel in their own carriage, with a few servants and footmen in the one behind, with their belongings. <em>As few people as possible<em>, Alfred had said, wrinkling his nose on sight of the disproportionate number of trunks he realized the servants had been packing. We're going on a four day trip, not a month-long one, Arthur had heard him mutter, after telling some of the servants to unpack a few boxes.

"Yes, thank you Yao," Arthur replied, smiling briefly at the Jack, who in turn, gave a tired smile back. The changes in the kingdom had not been easy on Yao either. As much as Alfred had to fix things up before Arthur came, Yao had been dealing with the logistics of the kingdom as well. It had been hard, Yao had admitted to him, especially in Alphonsus' last months. He would go into long, depressed periods of silence, punctuated by bordering-hysterical orders which didn't make sense. Yao had acted in his steed, as he had done from time to time, since Queen Mathilda's death.

"Alphonsus' death," Yao had mused one evening, as he and Arthur had worked on the Spades Kingdom's accounts in Arthur's chambers, "was a long time coming, I suppose." Arthur hadn't said anything, merely nodded and proceeded to add together figures and sums, a part of him unable to grasp this huge chunk of time lost, and god, fifteen years of his hundred and fifty nine shouldn't feel this jarring. Yao had been a great help to Arthur, after being formally coronated as Queen. He dealt with the bulk of the courtly matters, aiding Arthur with logistics and messages to the rest of the castle.

From the other side of the carriage, Alfred yawned and slumped back in his seat, rubbing at his eyes. Arthur resisted the urge to ask him what he was so tired for, for he wasn't the one who had spent nights up, drafting the most foolproof proposal the Hearts Kingdom could never turn down. _Alfred_ wasn't the one that was supposed to be looking like he hadn't slept in four days. Yao gave them both one last look, half-wary, before shutting the carriage door with a final "good luck, aru". Whilst things had gotten notably less tense between Arthur and Alfred, the whole castle still seemed to be eyeing them with increasing suspicion, much to Arthur's puzzlement.

The carriage shifted forward, jostling Arthur out of his thoughts. Alfred too, was startled from his brief doze, catching himself on the plush edge of the seat in surprise. Arthur frowned, looking Alfred over. In the interest of reaching the Hearts Kingdom at a decent hour, Arthur and Alfred had decided to forgo their usual morning training. He had no idea why Alfred looked so tired.

"Alfred, are you ready for this or not?" he asked, after Alfred nodded off for the fifth time in as many minutes.

"Sure I am," he yawned, waving a hand lazily in the direction of the window. ""s just kinda early, that's all. And I was up doing, um. Stuff."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. As much as his respect for Alfred had grown over the last week or so, he still had his... Prolonged-moments of doubts, to say the least. "Stuff?" he asked, drily.

"Yeah just thinking- Preparing- For stuff, y'know." He waved his hand in a broad gesture again, and looks back out the window, a mild colour in his cheeks. Arthur felt his eyebrows arch of their own accord again, as he nodded. "Right."

Silence.

"Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"I was just thinking-" Arthur bit back the urge to go cut in with 'that's new', "- About um." Alfred paused, eyebrows scrunching, finding the word. "Stuff."

"Uh huh," Arthur deadpanned. "That's interesting."

"Yeah," Alfred glossed over, completely missing the sarcasm. "I was just... Thinking, y'know. About our trip to the Hearts Kingdom, and our proposal and stuff- That's why I was up, I mean. I was re-reading the documents we had prepared and-" Arthur felt himself blink in surprise, at the unexpected admission, "- And Matt got me thinking. He was helping with the preparation and I told him about what we've been discussing and-"

"- And I was wondering if you could tell me... How exactly I could be a better King."

Arthur stared at him for a moment, holding Alfred's determined gaze, momentarily uncomprehending because _he couldn't possibly have said that right? Ignorant, brash Alfred couldn't possibly have-_

"I beg your pardon?" He gaped.

Alfred's hand twisted agitatedly in the fabric of his pants, eyes still locked on Arthur's with fierce earnestness which Arthur really shouldn't find that endearing. "We were talking about how... How I'm not as bad a King as I might've thought. So I want to know how you think I could make a better King."

Arthur blinked at him again, still more than a little shocked (and also somehow deeply pleased and happy) at Alfred's need for his opinion. He had not, in any way, seen this coming, regardless of how much less of an idiot Alfred seemed to be, in the past week or so.

"Just to clarify," Arthur said, narrowing his eyes, "you're asking for my opinion? On how you can be a better King?"

Alfred looked like he was about to say something, before quickly biting it back, his fingers curling even further into his pants. "Yes," he managed to say, still holding Arthur's gaze.

_Well. Maybe there is hope._

* * *

><p>"You're <em>hopeless<em>!" came a muffled shout from the carriage, as Ludwig and Kiku exchanged looks from the front steps of their castle in the Hearts Kingdom.

Message had come from their neighbouring kingdom of the new King and Queen of Spades' visit a few days ago, and since then, the castle had been in a rush to ready itself for the official visit. It had been a flurry of dusting the main halls and preparing guest chambers ("Veeee, Kiku, do we give them one room or two? Ludwig says that it's tradition for Spades' Kings and Queens to be married, but he had that look on his face when he's not sure about things, but I heard that they're pretty close and- Kiku, ve, do you have a headache? Why are you-"), and even the servants were nervous, for the Hearts Kingdom had not seen Spades dignitaries in over fifteen years.

God knows how Kiku and Ludwig felt. A few long nights were spent up, discussing every possible outcome of the new King and Queen's visits, with Kiku trying to detail all likely proposals, and Ludwig being on the verge of flustered (which was quite a reaction for Ludwig) at the fact that they had no prior information on the new King Alfred and Queen Arthur to base their plans on. Even Feliciano, who bustled around, constantly feeding them food and filling their glasses in the dead of the night, could sense their worry.

Their worry which was a little... thrown off, at the sight of what seemed to appear to be Queen Arthur throwing open the carriage door unceremoniously, almost knocking it into the footman who had gone to open it.

"HOPELESS!" he shouted, glaring at the second man, another blond, who stumbled out of the carriage as well, red in the face and looking just as agitated. "You asked for my opinion, and I gave it to you, you twat! If you don't like it, you can just shove it up your-"

"But who are you to criticise me when you aren't exactly the perfect Queen either, huh?"

"You asked for my opinion! What else was I to-"

Kiku coughed gently, as Ludwig pulled his startled glance away from the pair squabbling in the distance. "Well they do seem... Lively?"

Ludwig sighed, his hand coming up in an abortive movement, half-way through to rubbing his temples. "We should go prepare ourselves to welcome them."

Kiku gave the two men another long look before following Ludwig in. _Well at least that settles Feliciano's question about the room arrangements..._

* * *

><p>They stood in the middle of the Great Court, decked in the royal reds and purples of the Hearts Kingdom, Arthur to Alfred's left, trying his best to rid his habit of standing like a soldier to no avail. Alfred was distracted, possibly by the various paintings and tapestries that hung from each wall; the Hearts Kingdom was famous for its output of fine art, and the decorations in the court did not betray these expectations.<p>

There were a limited number of guards in the great hall; two at the door, another four flanking the King and the Queen who sat on the elevated thrones. Classic, Arthur noted, but the lack of guards was probably a token gesture for them.

"Hey Arthur! Arthur! Is that a face or is it a-" Arthur resisted the urge to slam his foot onto Alfred's boot, and instead shot him a look instead. Alfred gave him a look of confusion before the '_oh_' face finally set in. Arthur fought back against the migraine that was beginning to throb in the back of his skull as his King put on (what he thought was) a serious expression and straightened his back.

Behind him, the servants holding the chests of gifts to be presented to King Ludwig shifted awkwardly. Arthur inhaled, recalling to his best the words he had puzzled over for many nights, and took a bow. Alfred almost followed him - thank god he caught the look Arthur shot him, because a fellow King certainly shouldn't be taking a bow like this, it was most definitely inappropriate, and Arthur wondered if he should force Alfred to take a crash course in Court Ettiquette - but instead grinned openly.

"Hi!" Alfred said, and Arthur decided that positions could go to hell, because if he let Alfred talk anymore an unnecessary _war_ might happen.

"We thank you for allowing us the honour, King Ludwig." It had been a while, Arthur realized, since he came to the Hearts Kingdom. The last time he had come was with Alphonsus, as his Royal Guard, to ask for medical aid for Queen Mathilda. The King was not Ludwig then, which was a problem, because all Arthur had now to judge the success of his proposal was complete hearsay. King Ludwig was a reknown stoic, strict man who honoured structure and order above everything else, and Arthur was not too sure if he could move the man to rebuild an alliance that the Spades had abandoned of their own accord.

Cut to the point, Arthur decided, but be as polite and as humble as possible. Then he had to appeal to their need for the technology of the Spades Kingdom, which he was sure that they still needed. Point out the merits, show an open acceptance to slight alterations in the terms of alliance if required-

"The Spades Kingdom would like to propose an alliance," Arthur started, "A new bond that represents the new governments of both Kingdoms. We understand that we have once abandoned the Hearts Kingdom as an ally, broken many promises that we were supposed to fulfill, but the new King would assure you that-"

"We believe the same." Ludwig said, nodding slightly. The Queen - Kiku, Arthur remembered from his research - gave a small smile as well.

Arthur froze, the gears in his brain creaking to a stop. _Wait, what?_ What did that mean? 'We believe the same'? They agreed? But he had not stated anything about the new alliance, had not mentioned any of the merits that would benefit the Hearts Kingdom, had not even tried to negotiate- Did he mean what Arthur thought he meant? Was it alright? How could it be alright? Now? But what about-

"Really? Cool!"

_Cool._ Arthur's brain echoed in disgust, as he turned incredulously to Alfred, who was beaming the brightest of grins and completely oblivious that you did not use language like 'Cool' in another King's Court. As he gaped blankly at Alfred, still trying to gain his bearings, Alfred continued happily,

"You see, we kinda have this problem now in our Kingdom. The waterways were polluted 'cause of all the factories on the outskirts, yea? And my dad sorta messed up during his rule, and the filters weren't doing the right things, and the people in the lower towns are suffering from the side effects of dirty water. Our doctors can't do anything, but we really want to be able to help them, and Arthur- I mean, uh, my Queen...?" He trailed off, looking to Arthur - who had yet to recover from his shock from Ludwig's easy agreement and now had to deal with the fact that Alfred was _talking to King Ludwig like that - _only to realise that said Queen was too busy staring at him with a look of equal horror and amazement.

And so Alfred shrugged, and continued, "Anyway Arthur said that you guys are really good at curing diseases and all that, and we really really need your help." He paused, "Uh, not for free of course! We brought... stuff!" He waved at the men behind him, who looked blankly at him before realising that their King had just given them their _cue_, hurriedly stumbling forward with the various chests, "And uh- Let-" Alfred made a funny face, scrunching up his nose as if he was trying to remember the right thing to say, "Let it be known that the Spades Kingdom will offer all of its resources to uh-"

"- to aid your Kingdom, to the best of our ability." Arthur caught on finally.

Alfred grinned carelessly, "What he said." He shot Arthur a look of innocent confusion when Arthur glared at him, _hard_, because god knows how offended the King and Queen would be after being talked to like they were _mere commoner 'buddies' _with Alfred.

"I... I apologize for King Alfred's lack of manners, he has just risen to rule and is not used to the appropriate behavior in Court," Arthur added hurriedly, eyes scanning the faces of Ludwig and Kiku on the throne for any signs of distaste or anger. "I-I will ensure that this behavior will not be repeated again-" He trailed off, because he realized that as a Queen, that was probably not something he should be saying about his King, not in front of another King and Queen.

There was a moment of silence, and Arthur was very certain his heart was hammering so loudly in his chest everyone present could hear it. Damn it all, Arthur thought to himself, he was going to tie Alfred to a chair and spoon-feed him etiquette once they got back, because they would be lucky to be sent back to Spades with a declaration of war after what Alfred just did, and-

_Ppfft._

Startled, Arthur looked up again, only to see the Queen hiding his mouth with the sleeve of his _kimono_ (that was what they called it wasn't it?), and the corner of Ludwig's mouth twitching upwards.

Arthur stared in horror as both the King and Queen's shoulders began to shake with what was most definitely _chuckling_.

"There is no need for alarm, Queen of Spades." Kiku recovered first, the smile of amusement still on his lips, "We are very taken with your King's concern for his people, and there is no need for formalities with us."

"We would need your Kingdom's help, and we too believe that it is time for a new Alliance to be formed." Ludwig cleared his throat, hiding a quirk of his lips with his fist, "The Hearts Kingdom is very honoured to have your Kingdom approach us first."

Arthur stared.

"And we're really honoured you guys are alright with this too!" Alfred piped in cheerfully, and Arthur no longer held back his urge to rub at his temples.

"I-I'm really sorry, he really doesn't-"

More chuckling, which startled Arthur into silence again. Was he being the _funny_ one here? What about Alfred and his addressing of another King and Queen as 'you guys'? Wasn't _that_ the funny thing?

"Ludwiiiiig!" The doors behind them slammed open, as a shorter man with brown hair bounded up to the elevated thrones, disregarding the guards who saluted him as he ran past. "Dinner is ready!" He grinned at the Queen of Hearts, after coming to a halt, seemingly oblivious to Alfred and Arthur, who were still standing a way in front of the platform, blinking. "Kiku, Kiku! We finally got the recipe you gave us right! So we're having egg custard tonight! With pasta, of course and-"

"Feliciano," groused Ludwig, rubbing his temples in a gesture familiar to Arthur. He felt a pang of sympathy for the King as Feliciano finally noticed Alfred and Arthur.

"Ah!" His eyes lit up, rushing down the steps to bow before them. "You must be the King and Queen of the Spades Kingdom! Vee," he hummed, cocking his head slightly at them. "We've heard so much about you! Have you finished talking to Ludwig and Kiku? Do you like pasta? We're having pasta for dinner you see and-"

Kiku came around to rest a hand on Feliciano's shoulder. "Please pardon him," Kiku smiled, slightly embarrased. "This is Feliciano Vargas, the Jack of the Hearts Kingdom. He- He tends to be very ah, enthusiastic so please do not be offended by-"

"Hey!" Alfred came to clap a hand on Feliciano's back, grinning broadly. "Nice to meet you! Sorry to interupt and stuff but um, did you mention food?"

Turning towards Alfred, Feliciano brightened even more, if possible. "Yes! Pasta! Do you like pasta, your highness?"

Alfred waved his hand dismissively at the formal title. "Just call me Alfred. And yeah! What kind of stuff do you have in your pastas here?" Feliciano chattered on, talking a mile a minute while gesturing wildly, and catching the look on King Ludwig and Queen Kiku's faces, he suddenly understood why Alfred's lack of formality had not put them off at all.

* * *

><p>Drowsy from dinner (<em>God did these people eat<em>), Alfred and Arthur shuffled behind Feliciano, attempting to look awake while the Jack lead them to their rooms.

"So how was dinner? Did you like it? I thought the pasta today was pretty good! But then again, pasta is good every day, isn't it?"

"It was good," Arthur said diplomatically, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Yeah," Alfred added, scratching at the back of his head. "Really good." And it had been.

The Hearts Kingdom was famous for their healers and fine art, but no one had ever told Alfred about the wonderful _food_. Alfred never had a chance to visit the Kingdom. Once upon a time, the relations between the Hearts and Spades had been strong, with the former supporting the latter with Healers, in return for the newest technology and machinery. It had been a good, symbiotic relationship, broken only by Alphonsus' command, for an unspecified reason. It had been a fifteen-year-long, icy silence between the two kingdoms since then.

_Not anymore_, Alfred thought, smiling a little to himself. He had been admittedly nervous about the proposal, although he had tried to act otherwise. As much as Arthur found it necessary to have given him thick stacks of paperwork, as well as to nag at him incessantly, Alfred knew of the stakes and possibilities of this visit. They had been lucky, he knew, to have come out with such an easy agreement.

After Feliciano's interruption, Ludwig, Kiku and Arthur had tried to play to some semblance of formality, while Alfred chatted with Feliciano at one side. The King and Queen of Hearts had agreed to take a look at their drawn up proposals, and that any discussions would commence tomorrow. After that had been a long, wonderful dinner, and while Alfred had, in fact, caught Arthur's glances (which he assumed to mean "don't get too cocky, git", or some variant of that), the warm lull of food and drink was too strong, and even Ludwig and Kiku loosened slightly over dinner. The three of them, together with Feliciano, had proven to be excellent company, with Feliciano's animated chatter, as well as Ludwig and Kiku's polite but friendly conversation.

_I like them_, Alfred thought to himself, yawning as Feliciano drew to a halt at a grand-looking set of double doors.

"Here are your chambers!" he proclaimed, throwing the double doors open, as he walked into the room himself, Alfred and Arthur trailing behind him.

"Ve, hope they're alright! Your servants already moved your things into the room, so everything should be here- If they aren't, just tell me, okay? I'm in the next wing, where Ludwig and Kiku are, but um, if you need anything, one of the servants' chambers is right down the hall, behind the draperies. So! This is your sitting-room-cum-bedroom, and..."

Alfred wandered around the room, grinning appreciatively. He honestly couldn't care less about what the room looked like, as long as it had a nice bed, a bath, and maybe a change of clothes-

Someone was not-so-subtly coughing behind him, and Alfred turned towards the sound. Arthur's face was red, his eyes caught on what seemed to be-

_Oh._

The bed. The only large, King-sized (Alfred was sure that there was a joke in there, but he didn't want to look too far into that) bed that was in the room, and Arthur was waving a hand at it, obviously distressed, and then Alfred got it, but by then Arthur found his voice again, and was spluttering at Feliciano.

"F-Feliciano I er..." he trailed off, waving at the bed. "The bed-"

"Ve?" Feliciano turned to them, cocking his head. "What's wrong with it?"

"There's only um, one." Alfred supplied, as Arthur continued to grasp at words.

"We're not-" Arthur spluttered, "We're _really_ not- The both of us, we-"

"Oh!" Feliciano grinned, and Alfred never thought that his grin could border on sly, but it did. "Don't worry about that, really! We're very open here! Ludwig and Kiku don't mind at all- Actually, we were worried about your sleeping plans, but this morning Kiku told me to prepare a single room instead!"

"_What?_ Why would he-"

"So it's okay, I promise!" chirped Feliciano, backing away to the doors. "I'll leave you two alone now, okay? Good night!" And the doors closed, leaving Arthur and Alfred alone in the room. Their room. Alfred blinked.

_They didn't really think that- Oh yuck!_ Alfred thought, still staring at the doors. _Well, I guess it's not that bad_, he mused, brain stuck in the rut of a tangent. _I mean, if you're into, I dunno, eyebrows or something, maybe Arthur's kinda cute. Well. I mean-_

Arthur's nervous cough startled him from his thoughts, and Alfred felt his ears pinking in the direction they had been headed towards.

"I'll, er, take the couch?" Arthur offered tentatively, hands fidgeting in the cloth of his robes, pointedly not looking at Alfred. "I'll just- Take some of the pillows and-"

"We could share, y'know," Alfred blurted. Arthur stared at him, and Alfred found himself fumbling for words. "I-I mean, it's a pretty huge bed right? King-sized, hah. So there's no need for you to sleep on the couch or um, anything. And it really shouldn't be too big a deal if we just... Sleep on one side each? Right?"

Arthur's expression was indiscernible, as Alfred felt a blush rise to his face and _I don't even know where those words came from, why did I even-_

"A-Alright."

Alfred blinked. It had been a lot easier than he had thought it would be, Arthur had a habit of putting up a fight with him for so much less. "Okay... Then..." He said slowly, slightly thrown off. He hadn't thought this through. _As usual,_ a voice that sounded suspiciously like Arthur echoed at the back of his head. Shut up, he tells it, as the slightly awkward silence ensued until Alfred really looked at the bed and decided to screw it all.

He flopped down onto it, the covers still done up, burying his face into the thick linen of the pillowcase. He could still feel Arthur's gaze on him, heavy, prickling at the back of his neck. "'M tired," he mumbled into the pillowcase, as a means of explanation.

Arthur snorted. "Aren't we all," and Alfred could almost feel the uneasiness in the room ease. "Not going to shower?"

Alfred shook his head in response, too lazy to lift his head from the pillow (which was suddenly _so_ comfortable) to speak.

"Lazy git," Arthur muttered, without much venom in it, as Alfred found himself half-smiling into the pillow on reflex. They had not known each other for very long - barely over a month - but one thing that Alfred had learnt was that Arthur rarely meant the insults he put forth.

He heard the sounds of Arthur moving around the room, his boots against the heavy carpeting, with the click and latching of trunks. "I'll go take a bath then," he heard Arthur say, as the sound of footsteps grew more and more distant, after the click of a door latch.

_Soothing_, Alfred idly thought to himself, as the soft sounds of running water filtered into the room, letting himself doze off.

* * *

><p><em>Smells... Comfortable<em>, came the disjointed thought, as Arthur rolled over to his other side. The bed was comfortable and distracting, and Arthur _knew_ that he had to wake up, as the early morning sunlight was already warming his cheek. But he really didn't want to, the slack relaxation of his body fighting against his mind, because yesterday had been tiring, not just the trip, but meeting King Ludwig and Queen Kiku as well, no matter how agreeable and welcoming they had been.

_Have to get up though_, he thought drowsily, prying his eyelids open to a squint.

Alfred was right in front of him, half a foot away and snoring, splayed out on his side of the bed, his left hand an inch from Arthur's cheek, and Arthur thought _hello there_.

And as he sleepily watched the slow dip and rise of Alfred's chest, the covers thrown off mid-sleep, mouth slack and without his glasses, suddenly much younger, Arthur breathed in the cold morning air, and thought for the first time (past the embarrassment of last night and all that gossip which had spread throughout the castle), that perhaps Alfred was actually, quite attractive.

It was new and utterly strange to think of it now, Arthur knew, when he was pretty sure that there was gunk in Alfred's eyes, and a little bit of drool coming out of his mouth, but he just _was_.

And wasn't _that_ the problem.

Arthur brought his forearm up to cover his eyes, groaning quietly. That wasn't it, of course. Alfred was... well, he was _Alfred_, son of Alphonsus, a bundle not weighing more than a sack of potatoes. He had held him once, upon Alphonsus' insistence, because _surely we're past formalities after we've come so far_, and he had given both Mathilda and Alphonsus his sworn word - that he would protect them, both the two newborn babies and the King and Queen themselves. And that was what he was supposed to do, wasn't it? Duty and responsibility as the Queen put to one side, it was a promise that he owed to Alphonsus. Even after-

His brain trailed off there, and Arthur found himself staring at Alfred again, and the small puddle of drool that was beginning to collect on the pillowcase.

Alfred was, of course, an attractive young man, if Arthur had to look at things objectively (as objective as physical attractiveness could get). He had the classic good looks, blonde hair and blue eyes, mixed in with the playful charm of a boy that had yet to know the world. He had a way of managing to look equal parts goofy and winning when he grinned, and his facial muscles relaxed easily into casual curves and a slightly crooked upturn of lips.

_But that wasn't it_, Arthur insisted to himself as firmly as he could, trying to shake off the knowledge that it wasn't _just_ a promise now. Not just duty and responsibility and words he had sworn to keep for a cherished friend. Because duty and responsibility and promises alone would do nothing to produce the kind of resolute determination that throbbed within him when he looked at Alfred now.

_Isaac_, his brain reminded him, _And the rest_, it added after much thought. And everything else, Arthur noted to himself grimly. There was also an increasing panic welling up within him, not because of Time Mages and Assassination Plots and Revenge and all that, and also not because he was worried that he would be unable to fulfill his duty or his promise to his now-dead old friend, but because he didn't know if he had the ability to keep Alfred safe. From all that.

And that in turn caused a wave of sickness to wash over him. Because what did it mean, now that his main concern was-

Alfred rolled over to his other side, his hand solidly colliding with Arthur's face in a smack.

"Fuck," Arthur muttered, smarting at the unexpected scratches made on his cheek.

Staring at the solid line of Alfred's back, still clothed in the white shirt he had been wearing yesterday, now wrinkled to hell and back, and with his collar flipped up (not at all endearingly, _god, it must be something in the food here_), Arthur felt himself lose it.

"Hnn- Arthur _wha-_ WOAH!" _Thump_.

The sound of Alfred's body connecting solidly with the floor (_carpet_, Arthur thought mournfully, but it would have to do) was rather satisfying, as Arthur barely held back a smile, while the other part of him screamed insanity because _he did not just purposefully kick the King out of his own bed. _

"A-ARTHUR!" Squawked Alfred, pulling his head up to bed-height, eyes still squinting and hair sleep-mussed, and an old, distant part of Arthur felt childishly gleeful. "What- Did you just _kick me out of bed_?"

"You scratched me on the face in your sleep," he answered placidly, turning to show the red marks Alfred had left on his cheek. It was the truth, he thought to himself. Well, partially.

"I wha- It was an accident!" Alfred cried, as he yanked himself up to throw himself on the bed again, making the mattress bounce unceremoniously. "You didn't have to literally kick me out of bed! That _hurt_ and-"

"Oh stop whining," Arthur rolled his eyes, as Alfred threw his face back into the soft pillows. Pulling his side of the sheets off, Arthur moved to slide off the bed, though not before giving Alfred a solid shove in the back.

"And get up, git. We have a lot of things to do." 

* * *

><p><span><strong>AN:**  
>Happy New Years! It's a day-ish late, we know. Terribly sorry about that, the fault is all Cass'. Still, we hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for all the comments and favourites, we're happy to know that people like this story. Please keep them coming, we'd love to hear from you. Have a brilliant year ahead, and thank you for your support! <p>


	6. Chapter VI

**Chapter VI**

They returned to the castle with two more wagons behind them.

Kiku and Ludwig had kindly spared them twenty healers, ten Purgers and ten Herbalists, and explained that if they needed more help, all they had to do was ask. Arthur had, in return (on the behalf of Alfred), given his word to send their Engineers to the Kingdom of Hearts in the next three days to do their research and collect information and specifics about the machinery the Hearts Kingdom needed.

Arthur could sense Alfred's impatience hanging in the air when he insisted that the Healers would be tired from their journey and needed to be allowed one day to settle down and rest after a good dinner, but the boy King had bit down on his lip and agreed, leaving Arthur and Yao to discuss Dinner and Room Arrangements.

Throughout dinner he was a good host, and Arthur grudgingly found himself both impressed and proud that Alfred finally understood what it meant to be King. The Alfred a month ago would have enthusiastically pressed for the Healers to head down to the Lower Towns immediately to help the people; no matter how much goodwill was in that demand, it would probably not prove well on a diplomatic level. Arthur found himself slightly thrown off balance at Alfred's lack of resistance to his arrangements, and- maybe, just possibly- slightly guilty that he had to put formalities before the well-being of their own people. That he had to force _Alfred_ to put national ties and courtesies before their own people.

Alfred was stifling several yawns by the time Yao arrived to show the guests to their rooms, and Arthur had chased him off to bed, warning him of an early morning. Alfred nodded and stumbled off, half-sleep walking, not bothering to retort against Arthur's nagging for him to make sure he took a bath before he slept, because god knew how much sweat and dust was currently clinging on to him.

Arthur found himself standing in front of the doors to Alfred's room ten minutes later, a tray in hand, on his third argument with himself if this was absolutely necessary. It wasn't, of course, his brain told him- for the third time in the past five minutes- he had only done what was Correct and Expected of a Queen; Ludwig and Kiku had been overly generous and understanding, sparing them help without asking them for anything in exchange (Arthur had been the one who insisted that their own engineers would be sent immediately, and not the King and Queen of Hearts themselves). He had the obligation to ensure that the Healers were not treated like mere workers at their disposal. Alfred, as King, should know that this was the least respect they could show to a Kingdom that had swallowed their terms and agreed on an alliance so easily, despite everything that had happened in the past.

But yet-

Arthur sighed, rubbing his temples. This really was getting rather out of hand. For him to feel _bad_ for Alfred doing what he was supposed to be doing in the first place was... strangely redundant, and most certainly unnecessary. But yet, he told himself, Alfred was only a kid, new to the throne and politics and diplomacy and responsibility, and surely his behavior today meant that he should be rewarded, somehow?

He looked down at the tray in his hands.

He had requested the kitchen to prepare a special dessert for Alfred, as discreetly as he could. The maids had a rather strange smile on their faces when he slipped into the kitchen during the course of the dinner and asked for them to make sure it was ready for Alfred later. Custard pudding, topped with cream. A little too much, perhaps, judging from that small stomach that Alfred was beginning to cultivate (he saw it every now and then, particularly when Alfred dressed down when they were practising in the mornings), but it would probably make him happy.

Or, Arthur thought to himself darkly, maybe he would throw a tantrum and complain about how Arthur was treating him like a kid again.

He knocked.

"Uhm, come in?"

"Alfred." Arthur nodded at the door. The rather surprised expression on Alfred's face did not help much with the awkwardness in his own stomach. "I uh, thought you might want something sweet."

Confusion only stayed on Alfred's face for a few more seconds before they were replaced with- _thank god_- glee. "Pudding! Really? I can? I mean-" Halfway through taking the tray out of Arthur's hands, Alfred looked warily back up at him, "You're not going to... go on about how it's not good to have something this sweet before sleeping?"

"... I... suppose we could make today an exception."

"Really." Alfred raised an eyebrow at him, but turned gleefully back to the pudding. "And what's this for?" He set the tray down on the bedside table and spooned himself a mouthful.

Arthur made a noise in the back of his throat. He didn't want to answer that question. "The sugar might help with the fatigue from the long journey." He tried, to the best of his abilities. Admitting to Alfred that he had felt bad for doing something any decent Queen would have done was silly, and rather damaging to his own pride, and any mention of a reward for his good behavior might get Alfred worked up over Arthur being patronizing again. (What Arthur had learnt, over the past few weeks of being with Alfred, was that he had a strong resentment against being reminded that he was a kid- not that Arthur stopped doing it when Alfred deserved it, but when it was unnecessary Arthur refrained from creating trouble for himself.)

Alfred shot him another look, as if he wasn't convinced, but shrugged and went back to devouring the pudding. "So, mmh, the Healers."

"What about them?"

"Tomorrow?"

"They said they would head down right in the morning."

Alfred looked relieved at that. "Great!" He grinned.

* * *

><p>"- Hold on, you're going <em>where<em>?" Arthur asked, incredulous.

"... With the healers?" Alfred raised his eyebrows, walking backwards to face Arthur while continuing to move towards the set of double doors which linked their wing to the foyer.

"To the lower towns? With _just_ the healers?"

"Yeah? Where else?" Alfred laughed. "Well, these two guys too, of course. Can't let anything happen to foreign dignitaries and stuff," he answered, unfazed in the least, beckoning at the two guards to follow him.

Arthur just stared at him, waiting, waiting for Alfred's realization of what he was doing, of _what had last happened when he was doing the exact same thing_ and-

"Sooooo, listen," Alfred's eyebrows remained quirked, as he approached the door. "If there's nothing else, the healers are waiting, so I'll just-"

"Are you _daft_?"

The two guards stopped short, as did Alfred, poised with his hand right above the doorknob. Alfred blinked, a little stunned.

"... No?" Alfred tried, looking at Arthur warily, cringing away.

Arthur felt like smacking his head. His own, then Alfred's. Was the boy out of his mind?

The events from before their trip to the Hearts Kingdom were still fresh in his mind, if no one else's. _Does Alfred have an issue of short term memory loss? The last time he had gone out into the lower districts, there had been a bloody riot! Which he, not for a lack of trying, could not stop._

Two weeks is not a long time in any sense, Arthur thought. _The people are still... Raw from it. Raw and healing._ Which brought him back to the present situation, where Alfred was just getting defensive at _that look_ on Arthur's face.

"Hey, you were the one who was all about- About decorum and hospitality and all that with the healers, that's just what I'm doing too!" He protested, frowning.

"But I wasn't a sodding _idiot_ about it Alfred!" Arthur snapped, suddenly immensely irritated, because _how on Earth could he not see that_? The look on Alfred's face could be described as nothing short of affronted, as the two guards looked away from them nervously and-

_Oh sod it._

Unclenching his balled-up fist (_when did that happen?_), Arthur gestured for Alfred to follow. "If you'll excuse us for a moment, gentlemen," he managed to grit out to the guards, storming into one of the nearby rooms, tapping his foot as Alfred stormed in too (not after glaring pointedly at him), before he slammed the door behind them.

"Did you forget," Arthur seethed, "what happened just two weeks ago? Or has it already been wiped clean from your idle mind?"

"W-What- Of course not!" Alfred shouted, tone rising in tandem with the colour in his cheeks. "I'm not an idiot!" _He hates being told off like this_, a distant part of Arthur's brain reminded him. A more dominant part told him that the safety of Alfred- the safety of the _King of Spades_- came first.

"Oh really?" Arthur shouted back, as he matched Alfred's volume, irritation bubbling up, unstoppable. "Because you're doing a fine job of imitation then! What were you _thinking_, Alfred, going down to the Lower Districts, barely two weeks after a riot? If you were thinking at all? The people there are still bruised from it, and no matter what you may think of them, not everyone is free from the hunger of revenge, Alfred!"

A brief pause, as Alfred's eyes flashed angrily at him behind his glasses.

"I _have_ been thinking, _Arthur_," Alfred spat, mocking his turn of speech. "About the _people_. The people who need this cure and who need those damn healers _right now_, and if my being there can help- I don't know, speed up the process, open more doors, even if I can just help them collect information- Then I should! Instead of just- Just sitting around here doing nothing!"

"But you're _King_, Alfred! Kings don't go out into the streets when the people are vicious- Not everyone is as naive and forgiving as you may be!"

Alfred smiled, sardonic. "Well maybe that's because you don't let them be."

Arthur stifled a flinch. The retort had cut a deeper than Alfred had probably intended. Looking at the smirk on Alfred's face, the shift of his muscles as he prepared to stand up, thinking that he had won (Arthur too had no idea when this had become a game), made something in him flare up again, hot, scalding his insides.

"At least I don't play King, Alfred," he bit back. "Because that's what you're doing, by- By making stupid, _rash_ decisions like this because you can only see the present. You're not thinking long-term, what if you get hurt? _Killed_? What is the Kingdom going to do then?" Arthur paused to catch his breath, as he watched the freeze of Alfred's muscles mid-move.

"What can the Spades do if their new King is killed? Right after the old one passed on? Do you think that will bring anyone _stability_ Alfred? You getting _hurt_, because you were too silly to think about the consequences?" The words spilled out of Arthur seemingly beyond his control. He was on fire, if nothing else, lit by this sudden panicking urgency which seemed to arise out of no where.

Because Alfred's safety was a legitimate concern, he told himself. A legitimate _national_ concern. Because what could a country do without a King? What would the court do without the King?

What would _he_, the Queen, do without him?

The thought was jarring, as Arthur's eyes flickered to Alfred, seated heavily back in the armchair, slightly slumped. He watched the line of his throat, the slight curve of his adam's apple bob as Alfred swallowed thickly, eyes downcast, and felt a similar downwards tug at his chest.

_Oh bugger it._

As much as Arthur thought that it was the role he was supposed to take on, as strangely-paired as it might be with this new attraction he had developed, Arthur very belatedly realised that he was not Alfred's father. That he was never, and should not be.

_I am his Queen,_ he reminded himself, rolling the word over in his head, feeling it, testing its weight. _Queen,_ he mentally repeats, eyes still locked on Alfred's slumped form.

_An equal partner to the King, someone to assist him in running the Kingdom. Because Alfred is, inescapably, the King of the Spades Kingdom. And he should make his own decisions._

_(And I will be here to help him.)_

With that thought, Arthur turned to leave the room. He could feel Alfred's gaze on him - part-wary, part-curious - as he murmured, "Give me a moment".

A few minutes later, he came back with a linen sack at his side, which Alfred eyed suspiciously from his position in the armchair. His gaze eventually locked with Alfred's, and he held it for a few moments, considering what he was supposed to do.

He tossed Alfred the sack, which he caught on reflex.

"What-"

Arthur turned on his heel. He was never terribly good at apologies, or stepping back, and part of him- the part which was technically aged a hundred and fifty-nine years and yet still doesn't quite know how to deal with these situations- twinged.

"I said you weren't to go as the King." Arthur managed to heave out, the voice at the back of his head still questioning, picking at the edges of his senses that told him that this was wrong, and that he really shouldn't- "... If you're responsible enough you'd make sure you come back unscathed. And no starting riots or getting the Healers of the Guards involved in anything stupid."

Alfred was staring up at him, mouth agape like the sack in his lap. "Uh, Arthur, but-"

"That Alex kid that was going around that day." Alfred twitched slightly at the mention of that name. "I suppose he'd be concerned enough to hang around with the Healers and the other volunteers around town to check if everything's alright."

"How did you-"

"Alfred F. Jones is in the castle, grounded by the Queen. And thus, no riots will occur due to his presence in the lower town, and he can't be harmed either." Arthur huffed; his words sounded ridiculous and it was tearing down at his composure, because if Alfred was going to _laugh_ at his efforts to try to be a good Queen this time he was going to-

"Thanks, Arthur. I mean, m'Queen, sir-"

Over his shoulder he caught a glimpse of a rather goofy salute and an equally goofy grin from Alfred, still on the arm chair, the sack of clothing in his lap.

Arthur exhaled. "You are to be back by evening. Dinner. It would be inappropriate if the King was not at the dinner table to receive his guests."

"Won't miss it." Alfred cracked, "Gotta be hungry by then."

* * *

><p>It took three days before the Healers finally returned with the good news that they had found a working cure. The Herbalists had broken down the contents of the contaminated water and come up with a counter-drug, and the Purgers were currently removing the harmful particles from the bodies of those who were in critical condition. After they had been Purged they would have to take the medication that would help readjust their bodies back to their previous state, and to ensure that the long-term effects of contamination were permanently removed from the system.<p>

The cure was distributed amongst the local doctors, and Alfred had insisted (despite the Court's protests about their lack of budget) on the medicine being provided to all the civillians in the Lower Town at no cost at all for the next month.

"It's our fault they had to suffer. Surely we can't make them _pay_ for the medication." Alfred had said, rather indignantly at the older men around the table. "One month. The Healers said that by then all the harmful effects would be Purged from the body. We can afford to give them that."

"But your highness! Surely you realise that we do not have the funds to do something like that! The Queen's previous proposal is still pending, and it is the Kingdom that is paying for all the manpower used to fix all the faulty filters and waterways. With this extra cost we would not be able to-"

"Just cancel all the random balls and events for the next month and we'll all be fine! I mean, trade between the Hearts and Spades has started up again, and our Engineers have received a large amount of orders from the Hearts Kingdom. And as of now," Alfred had cleared his throat, a rather triumphant grin gracing his features as he announced, "We'll be working towards fixing up our relations with the Diamonds."

Four hours later, he was fiddling about in the arm chair of his own study, throwing worried glances at Arthur opposite him, going through the minutes of the meeting.

"The Diamonds." Arthur drawled, looking up from the papers at Alfred across him, "You told the Court that."

He had been absent from that particular meeting, busy liasing with Yao and the messenger from the Hearts Kingdom over the list of orders from King Ludwig for their technology and machinery. It was only after the servants had cleared their dishes off the dining table did Alfred look at him sheepishly and asked if they could talk in private in his rooms.

"Well. Uh." Alfred shrunk a little, in his chair. It was a decision that he had made on the spot, when he realised that he had to convince the Court that their expenditure would be covered, somehow, in the not-so-far-away future. Obviously, he realised ten minutes later, Arthur was going to explode. He could already guess what Arthur was going to say (_shout_) at him. Everything about not having insight and not planning ahead and did he really think that things were so easy in this world? "I thought... It made sense. Since, y'know, we kinda... Made ammends with the Hearts Kingdom... and the Diamonds Kingdom has always been neutral and focused on trade and commerce..."

"One day without me in the Court and you go ahead and announce that you're going to fix relations with the Diamonds?"

Alfred tried not to flinch. "I-It makes sense right? Increasing trade with them would help the Kingdom a lot! They produce all sorts of rare metals that we need in our machinery! The engineers would have more to work with, and we can-"

"And what makes you think that they'd just suddenly offer to increase trade?"

"The cure." Alfred breathed in slowly. Arthur wasn't raising his voice yet; he still had time to prove that he _had_ thought about this - to an extent, at least - and that he had done his research. "The river that was polluted, it runs into the Diamonds Kingdom and I know that relations have been foul between us and them because of that, among other things. I thought... I thought we should go over, give a formal apology and all that, yea? Along with the cure, of course. They're bound to be affected, even if it's not all over the news- maybe, maybe they don't know yet, and we ought to warn them, and-"

"Alfred."

"And I really did my research after that so-"

"You're rambling." Arthur snorted, placing the paper in his hands back down on the table.

"I-I am, aren't I?" Alfred deflated onto the table. He looked up slightly, giving his best shot at what he hoped was his best kicked-puppy look, "Are you mad?"

Surprisingly, Arthur twitched in his seat (strange, Alfred mused, because he was pretty sure that Arthur never really bought his kicked-puppy looks before) and let out a drawn-out sigh. "Not mad. A little exasperated, definitely, but... possibly less mad than all those other times." He leant back in the chair, "I have been considering the same thing. Recovering relations with the Diamonds would be very good for the Kingdom, not just for the rare metals that they produce through Alchemy, but because the Diamond Kingdom has the largest port. With good relations our merchants could have greater access to those ports."

Alfred's face brightened up.

"But," Arthur shot a glare at Alfred, which made his face fall again, "I didn't expect you to announce that so soon. Spade-Diamond relations have been... Awkward, to say the least. Way before your Father, even. Wars have been fought before. It's not as simple as fixing our relations with the Hearts Kingdom. I would have wanted more time before you announced that you would take action."

"I just thought that... Since we found the cure, it'd be a good time, yea? They'd need it too and all, and if we waited too long before we went to go and present them with the cure it'd be strange wouldn't it?"

Arthur frowned at that, lips tightening into a straight line for a moment. "... you have a point."

"I do?"

Pause.

"I-I mean, of course I do! Yeah!" Alfred coughed, sitting up and trying to not look too flustered altogether. He was not used to Arthur admitting that he was wrong - of course, it wasn't as if Arthur said anything like that, but to say that Alfred had a point was (in Alfred's terms and experiences dealing with Arthur) pretty much conceding defeat.

"So I thought... We could try, at least, yeah? I asked Mattie, he said the Diamonds Kingdom doesn't like going to war and stopped fighting altogether around seventeen years ago? So they probably won't declare war on us if we went for a friendly visit to present them the cure and talk about, you know, possibly patching up our friendship right?"

Another sigh from Arthur, "... That is most probably right."

"So! The Court can't _really_ blame us if negotiations fail, since we've tried. And we won't know if it's hard to patch up or not until we try either, right?"

Arthur was looking at him now, eyes slightly narrowed, his face scrunched up in thought.

"Come on I did my research this time and I tried to have insight like you've told me to!"

This time Alfred was pretty sure the sigh that escaped Arthur's lips was a sigh of defeat. "... It's worth a try."

"Yes!" Whether or not Arthur was going to chide him for being childish later did not matter as Alfred leapt up from his chair and did what Matthew called his Dance of Victory. He flashed a grin the incredulous look Arthur sent in his direction and grabbed his hands. "_Thank you_!"

Arthur spluttered a bit. "What-"

"For- I dunno, giving me a pass grade for once? _Yes_! I did it! I CONVINCED ARTHUR KIRKLAND TO SAY YES TO MY PROPOSAL!" Alfred shouted to the nearby bookshelf.

"Oh will you keep it _down_!" Arthur hissed at him, throwing a rather worried glance at the door, "Unless you didn't _notice_ the servants have been looking at us with increasingly funny looks for the past few weeks or so, and I'm pretty sure that won't help at all!"

"It won't? Why? We're finally getting along aren't we!"

"No we're- what, how in the world does that count as getting along-"

"I dunno," Alfred shrugged, suddenly a lot calmer than he was a moment ago. "I mean, you said yes, for once. Not that you didn't... Kinda say yes other times, but I'm pretty sure this was the first time you said... _Just_ yes, yeah?" He grinned at Arthur's furrowed brow, dismissing any other possible queries or retorts with a "Anyway! It's a good thing!"

The look on Arthur's face was around the lines of 'Really, now.' but Alfred let out a contented sigh instead, leaning against the edge of his desk. "So well, since we kinda ended on a pretty good note on that discussion," he turned his head slightly, "Could you help me with one more thing?"

Arthur regarded him warily for a minute or so, eyes scanning his face (that Alfred tried to keep as innocent as he could) before finally opening his mouth, "What."

"My dad. You knew him right? I mean, all the Court people saying you're his Royal Guard or something and all that. Could you, you know, tell me about him?"

"What?"

"Mattie and I don't know much about dad, see." Alfred added hurriedly. "It's like, we saw him once in a while but we don't really know much about him and all. I've heard more about him from the rest of the Kingdom than from himself, and I just thought... you know, what was he like? Before... Everything else." He waved a hand in the vague direction of his window, indicating (figuratively) at the state the Kingdom was currently in- or so he hoped Arthur would understand, anyway. "Like, everytime I talk to people about him- the ones who aren't trying to kill me with rocks anyway- they keep telling me that he changed, and that he was different before he went mad and all that..."

Arthur was looking at him, wide-eyed and frozen in his seat. It was _that look_, Alfred realised. That Look that sometimes would come over Arthur, ghosting over his eyes for a split second and wrinkling his brow ever so slightly before it was gone again, like it was just a passing thought. It was the first time he saw it linger for so long.

When Arthur opened his mouth, Alfred was pretty sure the look on his face wanted to tell him something completely different to what he was going to say. In fact, there was a lag between his mouth opening, and his voice finally finding its way out. For a moment Alfred braced himself for what Arthur had given him that night, the first night after he announced that Arthur would be his Queen. Meaningless empty words that served only the purpose of keeping Alfred at a distance-

"He was like you." The words finally came, and Arthur looked uncomfortable for a moment, shifting in his seat and leaning on the side that was the furthest away from Alfred. "Before all that," he waved the arm he wasn't leaning on dismissively, "madness or what not the Kingdom calls it came about. An idealistic kid who was more of a man than a King. A Kingdom for the people, he said, the day he was coronated."

"But he never kept to that." Alfred looked down at his feet, wondering if perhaps that was why Arthur and the rest of the Kingdom would react the most violently to his idealism more than anything else.

"He did." Arthur sounded a little more distant than he was. "He kept to it. If you look at the books that describe his rule before his madness, what they say - it's not propaganda or lies made to glorify his rule. He was, truly, a King who cared for his people more than anything."

"If that's the case, then why-" The words tumbled out before anything else could register in his head. Because what Arthur was saying had the numbingly distant warmth that was akin to a dream that you didn't know if you had really dreamt, the foggy first years of one's childhood that humans never remembered. "Why did he end up-"

"Alphonsus was a Man before he was a King." Arthur said, eyes cast in Alfred's direction but looking at something much further away. "When your mother died, he-" Arthur swallowed, eyes darting over to the corner of the desk. "He lost it, I suppose. Grief can do strange things to humans." Arthur closed his eyes, before taking in a deep breath. "Mathilda meant a lot to him. Perhaps more than the Kingdom did. And so he made mistakes any other man would have made in grief."

Arthur stood up at that, straightening out his robes. "And that's enough of a bedtime story."

"Arthur-"

"Yes?"

"Do you... do you forgive him? My dad, I mean. I only know he did terrible things to everyone but-"

Arthur paused, half-way out of the door. Alfred could hear him swallow.

"... It is not in my position to talk about forgiveness."

* * *

><p>Alfred couldn't help but snigger as they walked past the seventh floor-to-wall tapestry in that corridor, as Arthur shot him another look. Well it's not like it was his fault, because seriously? Four naked-woment-tapestries in one hall (not to mention that two of the others featured nude men)? Arthur had seemingly seen this coming.<p>

"So what's the Diamond Kingdom like?" Alfred had asked, curious. He had heard that Arthur had engaged in "tussles of sorts" (Arthur's words, not his) with the other Kingdom. Their King, in particular.

Arthur's nose wrinkled, as he stared out of the carriage at the landscape rolling past. "Alfred," he mused, seemingly more to himself than Alfred, "there is only one thing you need to know about the frog."

"The frog?"

"The King of Diamonds," Arthur waved his hand distractedly, as if just switching between monikers. "Alfred, I am serious." He fixed Alfred with a deadly serious gaze. "_Do not get anywhere near that perverted bastard._"

He had laughed it off right in Arthur's face a few hours earlier, but now, faced with not one, but six very... _Interesting_ tapestries, he wondered if this was one of the cases in which Arthur _wasn't_ just being a stodgy old man.

Although Alfred had not personally visited the Diamond Kingdom in the past, he had most certainly _heard_ of it. The third of four Kingdoms on their continent, the Diamond Kingdom had the most prominent sea port, engaging in major trade with the rest of the continents. It was known as a beautiful, flamboyant, metropolitan city, bustling with trade, art, and nortorious for their huge, annual festivals in the main city. It was known to have a rich, lavish culture, and standing there, in front of the gold-gilded doors to the throne room, Alfred realized that they weren't kidding.

A stern looking blond man came up to them from a side corridor, frowning. Alfred eyed the large, sleek black rifle he had in hand.

"The King and Queen will see you now," he said, after a brief bow, opening the doors (_still_ holding the gun). Alfred raised an eyebrow at Arthur which sadly, went unnoticed, as they walked into the large room.

More square than the long hall of the Hearts Kingdom, the room was amazing, for the lack of a better word.

The wrinkle over Arthur's nose and between his brows seemed to crease itself permanently.

"Really, Francis? Peacocks?" He asked, dry, and frowning disdainfully at the creatures parading around.

"I like them," came a silky, slightly accented voice. "They are creatures of beauty, aren't they?"

Alfred looked up from the two peacocks strutting around himself and Arthur, at the two thrones (gilded with gold again, on miniature platforms of marble and _god, Arthur wasn't kidding about the lavishness_), to the man and woman (girl?) seated upon them.

The man, King Francis, as he had learnt, had been the King of the Diamonds for quite a while now, as compared to the newer reigns of Kings Ludwig and Alfred. The Diamonds had a long-standing no-allies tradition, which after the war of seventeen years ago, between the Diamonds and the Spades, had turned into a policy of neutrality (long story, Alfred had learned, after pestering Matthew for a recap, two days before they left). Their Queen, Queen Lili, was apparently the sister of the Jack. She sat atop her throne, mild as could be, looking even younger than Alfred. The Queen of Diamonds took charge of courtly affairs and the arts, the latter of which formed a huge part of Diamond culture.

"Beauty," King Francis continued, smiling witheringly at Arthur, "which you obviously don't know the first thing about." Arthur gave Francis a painful looking grin (more of a grimace, actually) back, and Francis's gaze finally snagged on Alfred.

"Oh!" His eyes lit up, as his tone grew considerably lighter. "King Alfred, how wonderful to finally meet you!" He stood up, his cloak streaming out behind him, as he rose to meet Alfred at the front of the room.

"May I present Queen Lili," Francis gestured to her, as she nodded graciously, smiling, "and our Jack, Vash." The man who had escorted them in nodded at them curtly, still frowning (and gripping the gun like it was his lifeline). "I am, of course, King Francis!" He smiled, all charm and mirth, inclining his head at Alfred, as he (accidentally?) swept his arm and cloak at a spluttering Arthur.

"Welcome to the Diamond Kingdom!"

Alfred grinned at him, before looking around more to admire the room. "Thanks! You've got a really nice place here! It's very um," he paused. "Shiny!"

Francis laughed openly, as Lili too giggled softly behind a hand. "Well that is certainly one way to put it. The Diamond Kingdom is famous for it after all!" He swept his hand out in a broad gesture (narrowly missing a scowling Arthur, who ducked in time). "For our beauty!" Francis' eyes glinted mischevously, coming back to settle on Alfred.

"A beauty, of course," he continued, coming to put an arm around Alfred's shoulder, "which is very much enhanced by _your_ presence here today, King Alfred-"

"Do not touch him, _King Francis_," Arthur cut in, glaring, as Francis merely laughed.

"Oh _Queen Arthur_," Francis mocked in the same tone, "jealous are we?" And that left Arthur spluttering again, which worked to clue in the kind of relationship these two had. Something about having met each other on the battlefield, according to Matthew, who had checked the books for him.

"Jealous of what?" Arthur finally managed to spit out, face slowly going red.

"Of my beauty and- _Oh_."

Alfred turned to Francis, wondering what made him stop short. A slow, wicked smile spread out on his face, and the look in his eyes, to Alfred, was actually quite scary, in a can-he-see-through-my-clothes kind of way.

"Ohh," he breathed, letting go of Alfred to stride towards Arthur. "Oh _rosbif_, _I see_."

"W-What-" Arthur backed away from him minutely, face turning redder. "What on earth are you playing at, you perverted-"

"No," grinned Francis, moving ever closer. "It seems that _I_ am not the perverted one in this situation, dearest Arthur as you seem-"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Spluttered Arthur. "Do not insinuate-"

"There is nothing I am insinuating here," Francis practically purred, barely half a foot of space between him and Arthur now, which somehow made something in Alfred twinge uncomfortably.

"Could we get down to matters then?" The business-like tone of his voice, the very fact that he said those words, startled him, and apparently, everyone else around him. Of all of them, Arthur looked the most stunned, while Francis didn't expect it either, the both of them freezing mid-move.

Arthur recovered first, catching on. "Yes, of course." His tone was crisply professional again, as he took another step back, moving to align himself closer to Alfred. "We are here for diplomatic reasons." Francis himself straightened, tossing another charming smile in Alfred's direction, as he moved back to his seat.

"Of course," he drawled, and Alfred could have sworn that Vash rolled his eyes from his position in the corner.

Back in their original positions (peacocks still prowling), Arthur was all business once again.

"We represent the Spades Kingdom today, in the interest of improving relations between our two kingdoms," Arthur stated, giving the signal for the two servants who came with them into the throne room. They moved forward, to Arthur's side, one bearing a box, and the other, a leather-bound book.

"We understand that our Kingdom's water pollution problems has contaminated the Lower Point's water sources, and are deeply regretful for causing such an inconvenience." The words were crisp and professional, and not for the first time, Alfred was impressed at Arthur's dedication to his job.

"Recently, with the aid of the Hearts Kingdom's healers, we have finally been able to find a cure for the illnesses which have plagued our Lower Districts, which, we have heard, have also been affecting your citizens in the Lower Point." Arthur gestured to the two servants, indicating the box and book in hand.

"We are currently in the midst of tackling the root of our pollution problem. As a peace offering, from the Spades Kingdom to the Diamonds, we would like to offer you the recipe to the cure we have jointly found with the Hearts, as well as a small prepared supply of the cure." Arthur bowed his head, in the only act of deference Alfred had seen him perform, in the presence of King Francis. Alfred found himself following suit.

"We sincerely hope that you would accept our peace offering, and would perhaps consider mending relations between our kingdoms."

Neither the King nor Queen of Diamonds replied immediately, and Alfred was almost tempted to sneak a peek at what was taking them so long. Eventually, King Francis broke the silence.

"Vash, could you please accept the gifts?" His voice was as smooth as ever, but carefully toneless.

Alfred looked up at the click of heels in front of him, with Vash taking both items from the servants, walking back to his previous position.

There was another long silence as Francis considered them, gaze appraising and considering. Arthur gave a polite cough.

"Ah," murmured Francis. "My apologies, I was merely," he gestured vaguely, "considering. Reminiscing, if you will." He smiled, not the broad grin of earlier, but slightly more contained, cordial. "We appreciate your gifts, and will use them appropriately."

"However," he continued, "we politely decline your request to ah, further solidify relationships."

Alfred could feel Arthur visibly stiffen next to him. "I see," Arthur said, voice as even as Francis' managed to be. "May I ask why, King Francis?"

"Well you see, _Queen_ Arthur," Francis mocked again, as he seemed to delight in addressing Arthur by his title, "I have, as you have very politely asked me to, considered your proposition."

"And I have choosen to refuse."

_But why_, was right at the tip of Alfred's tongue, but he held it in, scarcely daring to breathe.

"I hope," Arthur ventured, "that this has nothing to do with our... Personal relationships with each other." He caught Francis' gaze dead on. "I was hoping that we could be sensible about this."

Francis laughed at this, a little colder than Alfred had expected, the sound making a shiver run down his spine.

"Oh, but Arthur, I am being sensible. Sensible on the behalf of the Diamonds, of course." He smiled, cocking his head a little. "Your kingdom will continue to trade with mine, regardless of the state of our ties, we both know that. And if trade continues on our terms, we have nothing to lose, no?" Francis paused, considering.

"But also as a King, your kingdom has brought my kingdom and I much grief which..." Alfred watched as Francis' gaze shifted to a strange, middling-distance, as his words grew slightly softer. "... Which for the foreseeable, cannot be so easily forgiven." His gaze shifted back to settle on Arthur.

"I'm sure you know very clearly of what I mean, Arthur Kirkland."

Somehow, Alfred could hear Arthur's audible swallow next to him. He said nothing.

Francis' gaze flicked away to the high, stained-glass windows, then to the larger clear ones which faced the courtyards. "Also," he continued, "why mend relations when your kingdom still owes me so much, hm, Queen?"

"Your Time Mages, they are still with me, as you might have known? _Your_ kin, Queen of Spades, or have you already forgotten them?"

Arthur visibly twitched next to him, and Alfred felt a similar strand of irritation flash in himself.

"I have _not_," growled Arthur, eyes not meeting Francis'.

Francis merely raised an eyebrow. "I see. Then may I suggest cleaning up your own, ah, internal affairs first? Well," Francis mused, rubbing his chin. "Not so much of 'internal' as much as... 'Personal', in this case, yes? Or would you rather leave _your_ women and children to seek sanctuary in my kingdom?"

Alfred couldn't help the flush of anger which rose in him at that. He could see the slow, flush of embarrassment on Arthur's neck, rising, and it tore at him inside, stronger than he had expected. As much as everything had started out diplomatic, Francis had made it downright personal, attacking Arthur. Attacking _his Queen._

_My Queen_, Alfred thought to himself, his brain taking a moment to poke at those words, to turn them around and pat them down, waiting for him to acknowledge their new shape. Once they had a strangely dry, bitter quality attached to them, some what mocking at other times, because it was _Arthur Kirkland_, and everything the Time Mage represented seemed to rip at the image of what Alfred would have previously imagined his Queen to be. (She would be gentle, kind, fun-loving and supportive. Spontaneous and very much willing to jump into strange adventures with him. Look up to him and respect him. Depend on him and see him as the best man in the world and-)

But it wasn't as if he didn't notice how the tone had changed lately. When it first happened Alfred probably paid no heed to it, later he had tried to change it back, forcefully, because _what in the world was he thinking_?

_My Queen,_ his brain repeated, and this time the fondness and pride (and _possessiveness_, but that wasn't right was it?) that oozed forth was undeniable and present.

Because Arthur was a control freak and a bastard who never seemed to be able to be cooperative, never seemed to have a kind word ready at his tongue, never seemed to be the type of person that could be a _Queen_- not to Alfred, anyway. But yet it was Arthur who spoke up for him in front of his people, his Court; it was Arthur who told him that he wasn't as bad a King as he thought he was. Arthur was the one who was always there to pull him out of danger and shout at him and reprimand him for being an idiot, but he was also the one who had trusted him in the end, and let him decide what his rule was going to be like.

Proud- and his brain took a moment to relish this new sense of clarity- because a person like Arthur had acknowledged him, somehow, in that twisted awkward way of his.

And suddenly, even though he knew that Arthur could recover, _would recover_, probably in time to continue what seemed to be an endless fight between himself and Francis, Alfred wanted to do it. To fight _for_ him, to help, because he'd planned this out, dammit; he had thought it through, did his research and he was _certain_, so certain. So certain that he could do this, that he could make Arthur proud of him all on his own.

"Actually, King Francis," Alfred heard himself say. "Regarding the Time Mages who have seeked refuge with the Diamond Kingdom..." He took a steadying breath, eyes fixed forward.

"The second purpose of our visit is to inform you that we would officially like to welcome the Time Mages back into the Spades Kingdom for good."

Next to him, Arthur balked, head spinning around to look at Alfred, something reminiscent of terror in his eyes; not exactly what Alfred had been going for. _Perhaps it's just shock_, he told himself. He kept his gaze forward, pleasant and polite like Arthur had taught him, meeting Francis' startled expression.

"Thank you for granting us your time. We sincerely hope you'd reconsider the ties between our kingdoms."

* * *

><p><span><strong>AN:**  
>Another long chapter! It's ridiculous how our "filler" chapters turn out to be the longest ever. Thank you for your patience with us! Updates might be slightly sluggish, as Cass is getting busier with her new internship thing! Still, thank you for reading. Comments and con-crit is always appreciated.<p>

We understand that some things in this chapter might not seem very clear at first glance (e.g. the history between the Spades and the Diamonds), but please understand that we can't really stick /everything/ into the main story. So we'll probably do some fact-sheet posts on our tumblr (link's in our profile) some time soon, to explain the relations between the Kingdoms, some of our headcanons for this AU and stuff like that. If it's not explained here, nor there, then well, maybe it's one of those things we're saving for later.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Have a great week ahead. 


	7. Chapter VII

**Chapter VII**

"You've got a problem." Alfred blurted out after what felt like forever. They had left the Diamond Kingdom with the blessings (or what were supposed to be blessings, anyway) of King Francis, and Alfred had promised that they would make arrangements for the transportation of the Time Mages from the Diamond Kingdom back to Spades. Arthur had been a bundle of nerves, tense and babbling and ending too many of his sentences with '-it's nothing, nevermind'.

It didn't make sense.

"I-" Arthur inhaled, a little too sharply for Alfred's comfort. "I don't have a problem, Alfred. Other than the fact that you could have perhaps _shared_ with me your intentions of taking the Time Mages back."

It was almost as if- and Alfred was almost scared to think that, because what did it _mean_ if that was the case- as if Arthur was _afraid_ of having the Time Mages back. And that was absurd, surely, because they were his kin (of some sort) and the Spades Kingdom was their _home_ and of course Arthur would be happy to welcome the rest of the Time Mages back to the Spades. Alfred would treat them well- not _special_, but as well as he treated the rest of the people- and they could live together again, just like before Everything Went Wrong.

"W-Well! I didn't really _intend _on doing it so soon! I did plan to take them back of course, as part of the negotiations with King Francis and all that but he-"

Alfred paused, wondering how he should word it.

'But he hurt you' seemed to be the wrong thing to say, because it wasn't as if Alfred had any solid basis for that claim, and Arthur might end up insulted or at least in very strong denial.

"But he said all that, and it was like he was... I dunno, mocking us or something for being unable to take care of our own people!" This was the truth, though perhaps only half of it. "And we _can_ now, can't we? Dad's gone and as far as I know everyone's been okay with the Time Mages. They welcomed _you_ back, surely they'd-"

"It's not that simple!" Arthur snapped, eyes widening seconds later in a manner that told Alfred that he had shocked himself with that reaction. And for a moment it looked like Arthur was going to say something else, something important, but he deflated and shrunk back and Alfred could see him swallow it.

Silence.

"I-It's complicated. The political structure of the way the Kingdom used to work. There are many people in Court that have only risen to their current ranks because the Time Mages were chased out of the Kingdom." Arthur rubbed his temples, forcing himself to lean back against his seat in the carriage, "I was merely the Royal Guard and it wasn't as if I was going to threaten to replace anyone, taking up position of the Queen and all. They'd have an easier time welcoming me back than the Time Mages all at once."

Alfred crossed his arms and pursed his lips together slightly.

"On top of that, the Kingdom might not be... entirely comfortable, suddenly welcoming back a race of people they've not seen in a while."

"We'll have to make them comfortable then! A celebration or a welcome back festival! And then I'd talk to all of the people to make sure they understand... And... and I don't know, maybe you could talk to them too, and explain how Time Magic works yeah? The previous misunderstanding probably happened because no one really knew what Time Magic could do, and fear of the unknown and all that happened-"

"Alfred-"

"Let's make this work, Arthur!" He leant forward slightly, staring as earnestly as he could into Arthur's eyes. They were wavering, just like they had back in the Diamonds Kingdom as Alfred and Francis talked about the Time Mages and how they'd be fetched back to the Spades Kingdom, and ever since then Arthur had not met his eyes without letting them swim around. What was Arthur worried about? (_Because surely he was worried about something, and surely it couldn't just be politics, or what the rest of the people might think-_) "The Spades Kingdom is their _home_. They have every right to come back!"

Arthur opened his mouth again. Then he shut it. His eyes shut too, and for that brief second he looked like he was in pain. Then it was gone as Arthur turned to look out of the carriage window, his features a flat mask of impassiveness,

"... You're right."

The reply was a little too quiet.

* * *

><p>Alfred was nervous. There was no escaping the truth now, he knew, pacing back and forth in the chambers. He had tried sitting down, stilling himself earlier, when Arthur had shot him the seventh look of the half-hour, but it had been worse, really. He jiggled his leg, crossed, then re-crossed them, toyed with the fancy trim on his robes, tapped his fingers noisily on the table, and managed to get Arthur cranky with some (all?) of them.<p>

_Relax,_ he told himself, rubbing his fingers idly. _It's not that big a deal, I mean, you're just talking to your people. Not like you haven't done that before right?_

But he hadn't. Not from this balcony, not really. This was The Balcony. The last time he was here, he and Arthur had been fresh out of coronation, and was presented to the gathered public in the square below. But he did not have to talk that time, not for an extended period, and traditional first greetings of a King were nothing compared to _this_.

Frankly, he had no idea how the public would react to him telling them that the Time Mages would be welcomed back into the kingdom in a week. He had been confident when pushing the idea at Arthur, because he was so sure then, so sure that it would work, _because it had to_, because he couldn't see any other way.

But Arthur's silence scared him.

It echoed at him, sounding at the edges of his thoughts, nipping at his heels. Arthur always had something to say, whether Alfred wanted to hear it or not, and for him to suddenly be so mum, reserved, distant... He didn't like it. He feverently told himself that he wasn't a _child_, wasn't someone who needed Arthur's approval to move forward, because he knew that it wasn't like that _at all_. And yet Arthur's censorship of his own thoughts from Alfred unnerved him, made him pace the floors and twiddle his thumbs, which just seemed to throw Arthur into an even worse mood.

"Would you stop it?" Arthur snapped, as if on cue, looking up from the papers he had been reading.

"I'm not bothering you or anything," Alfred mumbled in defence, dropping into a padded armchair opposite Arthur's own.

Arthur ran his fingers through his hair, agitation showing on his features. "It's nervewracking to see you pace," he muttered, eyes flicking from paper to Alfred, to the curtains covering the french doors which lead to the balcony, and back, never settling for long.

It never ocurred to Alfred that Arthur would be nervous too.

"Arthur?" He hoped his voice didn't show his uncertainty. Because that was the absolute last thing he needed right now.

Arthur looked up from his papers a tad too fast, his nerves showing. "Yes?"

"I was just-" _But how much is too much_, Alfred wondered. _Where's the line between a King, a partner, a friend, even, and... And whatever is on the other side of this damned line-_

"Your highnesses?" Yao came in through the doors, letting the curtains drape to a close behind him. "The people have gathered and," his eyes flicked between Arthur and Alfred, and Alfred wondered if his nervousness was really that obvious.

"And we're ready when you are, aru."

Biting his lip, Alfred looked over at Arthur, who nodded, as they stood in tandem, Arthur straightening out his robes, while Alfred fiddled with his lapels for the last time. He managed to muster what he hoped would be a good smile. "Ready!" He chirped, but the sound seemed to fall a little dull on his ears.

Yao raised an eyebrow. "Yes, your highness."

* * *

><p>"- Of course, we have come to realise that all the threats from Time Magic are at most, simply worries that will not happen, and the Time Mages are our people too. Just like- just like, well, my- <em>our<em> Queen is one. As a Kingdom we should welcome these Time Mages back. I have talked to King Francis at length during our visit, and we have come to the agreement that we will be welcoming all the Time Mages from the Diamonds back to Spades."

Alfred inhaled, watching the crowd beneath him. There was none of the reactions he had expected initially- no loud boo-ing or cheering, no sudden protests or complaints. Just a few murmured chatters, confused glances exchanged. He threw a sideway glance at Arthur, half-cursing himself for becoming so dependant on Arthur for a measure of the situation at hand; but Arthur seemed more keen than he had been on studying the crowd, his green eyes darting all over the crowd, wary and alert and almost as if he was expecting something _worse_ than Alfred had expected.

(_What, though-_)

"The Time Mages are due to arrive in a weeks' time, and we would like to show them the warmest homecoming possible. You know, a festival and stuff like that that. Parades and performances in the streets and food and games all around! It'll be for them as much as it will be for everyone else, and we hope that everyone will have a great time and treat them kindly when they arrive."

He paused, the lack of reaction from the crowds unsettling. He forced himself to _not_ turn to Arthur, and instead cleared his throat. "That's all from me today. Thank you all for gathering!"

There was only a slight delay before the crowd began to disperse. The mumbling become a rather lively chatter as they returned to their various houses and jobs, and at the very least, Alfred found himself thinking gratefully, no one was throwing rocks at him.

"Whewf. That... that wasn't too bad was it?" Deflating a little, Alfred turned to Arthur, a sheepish grin on his face. "I totally expected _someone_ to shout 'boo' at one point, really."

Silence. Arthur was still staring out at the plaza, eyes following each retreating group of anonymous public.

"Uh. Arthur?"

"Yes?" Alfred noticed as Arthur caught himself, turning to Alfred and trying to mask the fact that he had been jolted out of his thoughts.

"It went pretty well didn't it?" Alfred repeated, pulling the curtain aside so they could return back to the room. He threw one more glance over his shoulder, back down at the square. Just the backs of a few more townspeople. "... You looking for anyone?"

"No!" The reply came a little too fast, and Alfred found himself narrowing his eyes at Arthur in suspicion. He had been like that ever since they returned from the Diamond Kingdom; a little too thinned out, too tense and nervous and too hasty when it came to dismissing Alfred's concerns or questions. Arthur seemed to notice his look, and for a split second almost looked uncomfortable. "No, it's nothing. I was just concerned. The riot might seem far away but it really isn't, and you were making a public appearance without much guards. It could have been dangerous if I wasn't keeping a lookout."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. He wasn't entirely convinced, but it _was_ like Arthur to be a worry-wart like that. "You worry too much, Artie." He waved Arthur off without realising how easy that nickname slipped out of his mouth (_ah well, perhaps it would further annoy Arthur by putting an extra edge into the patronizing tone of that statement-_), stepping back into the room, "It's not like they could do anything. Like suddenly appear out of no where-"

Alfred stopped in midsentence. Not just because the air around them had suddenly thinned out. Not just because there was a strange sensation creeping over him, clinging to every single particle of his body; a strange sensation that was almost too familiar. Not just because he had suddenly lost the ability to move in that split second.

Arthur had moved before he could do anything else. It was just one simple step forward, to place himself in front of Alfred.

"Isaac."

_Who? _Alfred found himself thinking, before he hurriedly dragged himself back and tried to put together the strands of concentration he had lost because it happened too fast.

_Time Magic,_ his brain told him. Aequitas was still in his coat pocket, its weight a reassuring press against his left thigh. He could feel it ticking slightly, and for a moment allowed his mind to drift towards it. Focus on the ticking, because Arthur had said something about Aequitas being the clock that regulated the Kingdom's Time. It had the ability to calm any disoriented cogwheels - whatever that meant - and Alfred learnt that if he let himself focus on Aequitas for a moment, he could-

_Move. _

He gasped, taking a step forward to steady himself. The thinned air was heavy, of a different quality to the Freeze that Arthur would use during their morning training sessions. It felt different, an uncomfortable sheen over his skin that sealed him in seemed to make it hard to breathe.

"Arthur," his voice came out barely a whisper in the sheer weight of the room around them. "What-"

And that was when he noticed that they were surrounded.

Twenty or so men, Alfred decided. Maybe a little less, but perhaps a little more too. He couldn't do a proper count with his head whirling around like that. None of them looked too pleased.

"What is the meaning of this, Arthur." The first one who spoke was an old man, all silvering hair and eerily pale blue eyes. The man was staring straight at Arthur, not even at Alfred, and yet he found himself immobilized by it.

"'Welcoming the Time Mages back into the Spades Kingdom'? '_Homecoming_'?" A younger man spat, seemingly unable to hold back, as his eyes flashed angrily at them. "Is that the way we phrase 'hostage', in this new era?"

The men drew closer, and Alfred forgot to breathe.

"Or is this," another man, older this time, continued, "a- a long, elaborate plan, centuries in the works, knowing Alphonsus, to-"

"To threaten us? With our women and children? _Your_ women and children too, Arthur whether you choose to remember it-"

"So much for time," one scoffed. "You asked Issac for time, and this is what-"

"I told you," a lower voice this time, gravelly, came from the left, "not to have trusted him. He was- He is too close to the King."

"To Alphonsus," another murmured, and Alfred felt himself dizzying from everything. The voices which seemed to echo from all around him, sounding him out in the repressive background-silence of the room which choked him and-

"To the goddamn genocide itself!" Cried someone else, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone turn to Issac. "We told you so," the voice was accusatory, bitter, but Alfred found himself caught on the word of choice.

_Genocide. _

"We told him," another one spat at Arthur, moving forward, and everything in Alfred screamed on high alert, but he found himself immobile, independent of the magic. "Told him that anyone that- That involved with the royals must've been a part of the plans for the massacre."

_Massacre_, Alfred's mind echoed dutifully.

"We told him!" A boyish voice from the far side repeated, as if it would help. "We did and- And he did not listen _and now_-"

"And now this." Alfred forced himself to look at the man. Relatively small in build, his face a strange connundrum of weathered and young. A face which had been through far more than wrinkles or lines could ever care to admit. Alfred realised that his was the low, gravelly voice from earlier. He stepped forwad. "What is the meaning of this, oh great Queen Arthur? Or are we no longer privy to your... _Plans_?" He hissed, eyes narrowing and glinting and Arthur hadn't said anything so far, and Alfred was really panicking now because _what on earth are they talking about_?

"Enough." The voice was strong, laced with irritation and something else Alfred couldn't quite place, and the first man, the one with the silvery hair and trimmed beard, commanding all of the men's attention. He looked Arthur in the eye.

"Arthur. You will either tell us of yours' and the boy-King's plans now, and explain yourself and all of this time you have bought, or..." Issac raised his chin inperceptibly higher. "Or we will take it that you are... No longer with us." His eyes steeled. "And we will, take my word for it, act accordingly."

Arthur said nothing. From his position, Alfred couldn't see his expression, only the taut line of his back, so wired and stiff, like it had been for days, and suddenly-

He knew, Alfred realised, a chilling wash of pure coldness rushing to his fingertips and toes. He knew that they were coming. That- That they would react like this because-

"They are our people," Alfred heard himself say, as he tended to these days, in such... Tense situations (which were recurring at an alarming pace).

The group of Time Mages startled briefly at his voice, refocusing their attention onto him instead. Eyes wide, one of them ventured to ask. "H-How-"

"They are our people," Alfred stubbornly repeated, his hand resting resolutely on the cloth of his pants, seperating him from the smooth, constant tick of Aequitas. "A-And," he willed his voice not to shake, "and regardless of the past, whatever- Whatever my father," Alfred's voice trembled at that, minutely, and he knew they could all hear it, "had done, they are still people of the Spades Kingdom." He let his eyes flit over the group, some of them watching him bug-eyed, while others warily suspicious.

"_You_ are our people," Alfred rephrased, "and as citizens of the Spades Kingdom, you will always have a place within our lands."

There was a silence that stretched way too far and thin in the room, and Alfred realised that he was holding his breath, only able to watch the Time Mages in front of him - _Isaac_, his brain repeated - because he didn't dare to turn his head to look at the rest of the room. He could feel their gazes though, piercing through the air, even from behind.

Then finally, someone breathed. "That's it?"

Another pause, before the rest of the room caught on.

"That's it? You think we're going to buy into this- this Great King thing you're trying to build on?"

"'_Come home_'?"

"You think we're going to just... _forgive and forget_ for that simple line?"

"Genocide!" A voice hissed, "Your Father went ahead and _slaughtered_ the rest of our kin in front of our eyes and you think you can just _ask_ us to come home!"

The words were emphasised this time. They echoed in his head. _Genocide_ and _slaughter_ and _massacre_ in a whirl of noise and confusion and-

"Do you take us for idiots!"

_Front-left_, was all his brain could register. There was a flash of silver - a sword, his brain hurriedly replaced - and Alfred simply stared blankly as a boy not much older than him dashed forward and-

"_Daniel_!" A voice called out, sharp and warning but it was too late and-

And Arthur -

A sharp clang. Metal on metal.

There was a faint buzzing in his ears that rose to an almost hysteric screech, his brain piecing together everything- Every look, every unconscious tensing of back and jaw; the way Arthur reacted to questions about Alphonsus, the way he reacted when Alfred brought up the proposal to Francis-

Arthur _knew_.

Of course he did. He was one of them wasn't he? He was sent away as well and-

"He doesn't know." The voice in front of him shook. Alfred stared, dumbly, as the rest of the Time Mages turned away from him to look at Arthur instead; his sword was drawn, a taut line of silver against the boy's sword. One swing and the boy was sent backwards, stumbling for a few steps before catching his balance.

Arthur repeated himself, his voice flatter this time, "He doesn't know anything about the- about what Alphonsus did. Like the rest of the Kingdom."

"You think we'll buy that as an excuse? How could he not-"

"He was _four_!" Arthur snapped. "Fed with the same information as the rest of the bloody Kingdom!"

"And you didn't tell him." Isaac spoke once more, and Arthur faltered slightly, his sword hand wavering a bit before clenching once more around the handle.

_He didn't_. Alfred's brain echoed, like it was suddenly prone to. _Arthur knew, and he never told me_.

"Well it's going to be a little difficult for our dear _Queen _now, hm?" A voice sneered over the stillness of the room, "Telling his precious King that he had a _hand _in starting the bloody Genocide!" It ended in a shout that rubbed against the walls of the room. Gravel on plaster and stone, echoing. The rest of the room fell along with it, a low rumble of murmurs sweeping over the echoes like waves.

And all Alfred could think was _no_. Because what were these people trying to say? Arthur couldn't have- (but he had _flinched_ when that accusation was made-)__

"Enough!"

_Isaac again_, came the foggy feedback from his brain. _Must be the big guy or the leader here_. Alfred tried to breathe as the silence settled once more in the room. Stiffling.

"It looks like we might have misintepreted the situation."

The rest of the Time Mages turned to look at him, various degrees of shock and disbelief on their faces.

"If the boy-King truly doesn't understand the situation then his actions can be explained," Isaac spoke over the noise of protests that sounded all around the room, before redirecting his gaze over to Arthur. "Though it looks like you might have some explaining to do as well, Arthur."

Alfred looked over to Arthur's back. He said nothing.

"To us as well, of course. But we won't wait long this time."

"Isaac!"

"_But-_"

"We _leave._ For now."

A few disgruntled grunts sounded, but a moment later they were gone.

The air around them cleared, but remained oppressive. Alfred couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, and suddenly, it was just him and Arthur again.

He opened his mouth, eyes lost on the expanse of Arthur's back, still un-moving, and realised that he had no idea of what to say, because honestly, _where would he start?_

Arthur straightened up, cleared his throat in an abortive half-noise in the dead silence of the room, and walked off to the doors leading back to the main castle.

For better or for worse, Alfred found himself following him.

* * *

><p>"What were they talking about, Arthur?" The fact that he was asking - asking <em>Arthur<em> for information - made him feel considerably weaker than he would like. But Alfred knew that the question had been a while coming, hanging in the air during their silent walk back to the King's Chambers, pulled taut and thick between them.

Arthur didn't startle. He looked up from his knees, opposite Alfred in the armchair which they have come to recognize as his, looking weary, tired and... Full of guilt.

Alfred felt himself clench up. The words from just now did an echoing carousel around his head.

_"Telling his precious King that he had a _hand _in starting the bloody Genocide!"_

"Arthur," he grit out, forcing himself to sound level. "What were they talking about."

"You heard them," his voice was toneless.

"Exactly. I heard them. I heard from this- This group of Time Mages which I've never seen before- Who you've been meeting, apparently, and _why didn't you tell me, Arthur-_"

"Alfred," Arthur's voice was calm, steadying. _Too calm_, and Alfred mentally snapped.

"You thought I couldn't handle it!" He cried, agitated now, pushing off from his chair and pointing accusatorially. "You did," and he was so sure, because that's just what Arthur did, in the beginning. Alfred thought they had gotten past it, gotten past seeing him as more than just a boy-King, as the Time Mages had so crudely termed it, but apparently not.

"You thought I couldn't handle the goddamn truth of _my own Kingdom_, and so you fed me _lies_?" In the rush of the moment, the words were harsh, but as Alfred thought to himself, not hard enough.

Arthur sat in his chair, frozen, staring at Alfred, slightly glassy-eyed. "They weren't lies."

"You were holding back the most important bits of information! Why didn't you _tell _me!"

"Did you want to know that your father was a _mass murderer_?" Arthur snapped, eyes flashing, "That 'oh, I'm sorry, the Time Mages your father exiled weren't chased out of the Kingdom and forced to relocate, but the survivors of a brutal genocide under his hand'?"

Alfred bristled, the cold in his chest burning up his throat, "Then I certainly have the right to know if _my Queen_ had a _hand_ in said genocide don't I! You- _You_ played a part in-" He faltered, because there was no way Arthur could have done that; because there was still a part of him that was hoping to hear some form of a denial from Arthur. _Say no. Say that it was a misunderstanding. That you were wrongly accused._

Instead, Arthur flinched and dropped his gaze again.

_Say anything_, Alfred thought, fury bleeding into desperation, because at that point, he needed Arthur to say something, _anything_ at all. A far-flung part of his mind asked him what he would do if it was the sheer truth, if Arthur had been an integral part in orchestrating the genocide of his own people, and he could feel his stomach twist tighter at the thought. At the idea that Arthur helped his own father-

_Oh god my- Dad_.

The mental picture of his father hit him harder than he had expected it to. In the rush of the past half-hour, with genocide and massacre and slaughter and all those lies, he had almost missed the key name which kept popping up. _Alphonsus_.

Alfred felt very literally sick to his stomach. He clutched the plush backing of the chair he had vacated, facing Arthur, and telling himself very sternly, that he was not allowed to throw up. Not now.

"Arthur," his voice was shaking, a fine line between fury and distress. "Tell me now. You have to tell me every damn thing now. No- No withholding information, no sanitized truths."

"Everything," Alfred's mouth was dry, bile rising at the back of his throat. "Right now."

Arthur swallowed, and when he spoke his voice sounded slightly hollow, and even drier than Alfred's. "I suppose there's no point keeping anything else from you now that things are like this. You have the right to know."

* * *

><p>Two days after Queen Mathilda of Spades passed away, the Kingdom of Clovers pushed through The Wall, the initial stalemate over precious resources for both Kingdoms broken by sheer force as the neighbouring Kingdom charged their way through. What was meant to be a funeral became a hurried burial, with all of the country's resources and manpower redirected to the defence efforts at the south of the Kingdom.<p>

"Sir Kirkland!"

"Come in." Arthur massaged the old leather of his wrist guards. Even as Royal Guard he had been recalled back to the battlefield. The state of defense at the wall was probably at its worst, and he was due to leave for the South in an hour.

"The King would like to see you, sir!"

"Alphonsus? Now?"

"Yes, sir."

Arthur paused for a moment. Alphonsus had lapsed into a strange silence after Mathilda's death, only communicating with the rest of the castle through the mouth of messengers. He had refused to see Matthew and Alfred after the three of them cried at the grave, but that was probably inevitable, what with the war suddenly happening before anyone could catch their breath.

"I'll be there in a moment."

When he knocked on the double doors to Alphonsus' study he was answered by a hoarse 'Come in'. Alphonsus looked a lot paler and thinner in his dark blue robes, his eyes still slightly red at the edges.

"Your highness." Arthur took a bow.

"... Get up, Arthur. How many times do I need to tell you to stop those formalities with me?" The same words, but without the usual lightness in the words this time. "You are... Leaving, soon?"

"To the wall. The other Time Mages are having a hard time holding back the Elements from the Clover Kingdom. Whilst I'm probably not too much of an addition we're hoping the extra manpower would help."

"Good, good..." Alphonsus trailed off. He looked distracted, even troubled, but of course he did. Arthur had known him before he had been crowned King, and he had watched him fall hopelessly in love with Mathilda and stay that way for the rest of his days. His wife's death and the sudden attack on the Kingdom before they had time to mourn her was probably tearing him apart more than Arthur himself could comprehend. "Arthur."

"Yes, your highness?"

"I wanted to ask you." He paused again, blinking a few times as he furrowed his brow, as if considering the question, test-tasting it in his mind. "... About Time Magic."

"Time Magic, your highness?" Arthur repeated, a little unsure. Alphonsus had always shushed Arthur up during his previous tries of explaining his magic to him, whining about how it was complicating and _did he really have to understand those details to work Aequitas properly_?

"Is it... is it possible to- and this is just a what-if scenario- What if, I asked you to go back in time to stop her from having the children- Is it possible?"

Arthur blanched. He stared at Alphonsus, at the blue eyes that looked so _earnest_, so _desperate_, and yet so sincere, and wondered if his old friend realised what he was asking.

"... It's possible."

* * *

><p>"I told him that it was possible, but since Time Travel is taboo to us Time Mages none of us would be able to do that in the end." Arthur paused, the breath that he inhaled shaky.<p>

Alfred's face was pinched, a slight furrow between his brows. He hadn't said anything for a while now and frankly, Arthur was expecting the worst.

"And?" He prompted, when Arthur didn't continue.

Arthur sighed, frowning and rubbing at his head. This was more than he'd wanted to reveal in one sitting, one day even. "That's it," he muttered.

Alfred's expression changed, as he blinked confusedly at Arthur. "That's it?" He echoed. "But- but they said you had a _hand_ in it-" He gestured in the general direction of the space to their left, as if said space had suddenly become a metaphorical representation of history. "That meant that you had something to do with it didn't you?"

Arthur frowned at him. "But I just explained-"

"No you didn't! Dad asked you if you could Time Travel and you told him whilst you could you wouldn't! How does that link you to the Genocide!"

Arthur blinked at him slowly. For a moment he didn't respond, the expression on his face shifting from a slightly exasperated one to a blank look, almost as if he couldn't entirely understand why Alfred didn't see it. "I gave him the key to a possibility."

"A key to wha-?"

"The possibility that if he wanted to, it was technically not a problem for him to return to the past." Arthur's voice was quiet, "And that if he could do it, he would kill his children to allow his wife to live."

Alfred froze. He watched as Arthur's eyes turned to him, something flickering in his eyes, and suddenly he could feel a cold in his stomach, spreading upwards.

"I should have realised that Alphonsus wasn't in the state to hear those words. I probably _realised_ already. But I chose the truth over the lie that might have saved him. I refused to acknowledge what he was really asking for." Ignored it, forced himself to turn a blind eye to it. That Alphonsus _wouldn't_. That the question didn't mean anything, and that telling him that it was possible wasn't going to change anything.

"In the end he shook his head and laughed; told me to forget that he asked such a stupid question. I left for the Wall." Arthur was looking past Alfred's shoulder, at the window behind him and the blurry silhouettes of buildings in the dusty light of sunset. "Two weeks later when he called me back it was too late."

_"Do it!"_

_"I-I can't, your highness, we aren't allowed to-"_

_A snap of fingers, a startled scream that cracked into nothingness. Confused looks on the faces of all the Time Mages present. A body hitting the floor, a pool of blood slowly expanding._

_"Y-your highness, what are you-"_

_"Go on. Turn back time. You can do it can't you? And then you can save your kin. Life and Death should mean nothing to the lot of you!"_

_"I- I cannot-"_

_"... Not enough? We'll just have to be a little more convincing then."_

_It wasn't a sight that Arthur wanted to return home to. Alphonsus, flanked by a line of soldiers - a bloodied sword, the rest of the Time Mages of the court cowering in front of him in shock and confusion-_

_And the bodies-_

"I don't really know when he went..." Arthur stopped himself, clenching his jaw subconsciously, "When he went mad. But I- I realised I had to stop him. We fought, and he just kept _laughing_. I... I could have killed him." Another pause, "I could have killed him. I ran, the rest of the guards came, and that was when he gave the order to-" He faltered here, brows furrowing slightly as he glared at the carpet instead,

"... I tried to get as many people out as I could. Ended up in the Diamond Kingdom. The frog- Francis- he was kind enough to take us in. Hide us there until things calmed down. A week later news reached us about the Great Movement. And that's... that's how it was. We couldn't return back then, of course-" Arthur stopped there, trailing off into an uncomfortably cold silence. He breathed out, and the sound seemed to bounce off the walls in an eery echo.

"I did that to him."

A long pause spread between them, and Arthur's gaze remained glued to the carpet. He didn't want to look at Alfred now, not after all of those ugly, barefaced truths had come spilling out of him, all of them, because he was responsible and _oh god I just- I was the one who told him that his father was a mass murderer._

He felt his insides plummet even further. Alfred remained stone-still.

"No you didn't." The words were jarring in their quiet, measured tone which sounded so odd on Alfred's voice, so different from how he spoke every day. Arthur didn't look up, didn't want the possibility of seeing a schooled expression, a facade Alfred might have possibly put in place to distance himself from Arthur (and _oh_, wasn't that a suddenly earth-shaking idea).

"Yes I did," he muttered, voice hoarse. _It is the truth, no sense hiding it now_. The words did nothing for the clenching of his chest and fists, synchronized and constant, suffocating.

He couldn't breathe, couldn't look up, couldn't even school his voice properly because _this_ was why being Queen was a bad idea; why even coming back was a tragic, horrible notion. Horrible, horrible notions which Arthur had no business even thinking of, but then along came _Alfred_, and the chips would fall where they wanted, regardless of Arthur's protests. (And oh, did they fall, ever so gloriously free-falling to the bloody table where they'd collide and _hurt_ and-)

_But Alphonsus_, Arthur thought, and he did not even try to pretend that a part of him did not ache at the name. He had been more than Arthur's King, the person whom he was supposed to protect. He was his friend, a dear, dear friend, and nothing would change that.

A hand rested on Arthur shoulder, and he finally looked up.

"My father-" Arthur tactfully pretended not to notice the uncomfortable half-wince at the word, "-made a lot of... Bad choices." And this time it was Arthur's turn to cringe on reflex, because 'bad choices' really did not even begin to cover the reality of the fifteen years past.

"But," Alfred continued, and his stare was absolutely _dizzying_, Arthur distantly thought, "I..." he paused, the bridge of his nose wrinkling slightly in concentration, "I really don't think it's your fault."

"You did what you had to- What you thought was right, right then and... And you shouldn't be blamed for um, that." The hand on his shoulder tightened, and Arthur found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the searing _sincerity_ of Alfred's eyes, caught between the wonder of how he was _always_ able to do that, and the startling, fleeting hope it gave him.

"People blame me," he heard himself say.

Alfred's frowned deepened. "It doesn't mean that you should be," he argued. "You could've done so much worse but... You didn't." His gaze flickered for the briefest of moments.

"You could've killed my dad," he murmured. "But you didn't. And that's..."

Arthur laughed, bitterness tinging the empty sound. "And that was a waste of an opportunity, to many," he muttered, a sardonic grin picking up at the edges of his mouth.

"And I," Alfred said, raising his volume slightly to emphasise his point, "think they're wrong. I think-" He bit back an uneasy laugh, resting against the tall backing of the chair, half-sitting on one arm, as he looked away to the window instead.

"-I think that I'd probably have to forgive you for anything you'dve done. And I'm not... Too sure how I feel about that, actually," he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

Arthur's breath caught in a half-swallow. "No," he said, forcing his voice to be clear. "No, you _don't_-" Arthur struggled with the words, with the semantics and nuance and _meaning_, all things which he fleetingly wondered, if Alfred would even pick up on.

"-You're not... _Obliged_ to forgive me. For anything, Alfred."

"No," mused Alfred, wistfully. "I... I don't think I am." His gaze darted back to Arthur, then away again, almost bashfully. "But I think I still would."

It was a combination of factors, Arthur would purposefully decide later, which lead him to react the way he did. He had not been expecting the blush on Alfred's ears, or that look, that damnable hand _still_ on his shoulder, or Alfred's face when he looked away and-

"We have to decide on what we're telling the citizens," he blurted. Alfred blinked at him, momentarily disoriented. "A-About the Time Mages, of course," Arthur hastily added, standing up to briskly walk over to the second desk in Alfred's sitting room. He couldn't think, not with Alfred that close, a hand on his shoulder, soothing and so warm, and Arthur would have killed at that moment to know if Alfred knew of the possible meaning behind his words, loaded like a pistol with the safety off. Arthur shuffled through a few loose papers to have an excuse to keep him busy for a while. "They'll be coming back in a week and..." sufficiently straightened out, Arthur turned back towards where Alfred was sitting, giving him a pointed look.

"And things need to be done."

He caught the drop of Alfred's hand back onto his lap, and his attempt to arrange his expression into something passibly sensible. "R-Right," he muttered, giving his head a quick shake before standing up from the chair's arm, coming over to Arthur. "Of course we..." Alfred scratched his head idly, suddenly enraptured by the papers in front of him.

"We need to do something, yes," he confirmed, nodding briefly. He squinted at the papers in Arthur's hands, a moment before Arthur realised that they had no connection to the current discussion, and thus hastily put them away, before focusing back on Alfred.

"We need to decide if we're going to tell the Spades Kingdom the truth," Arthur said.

Alfred's gaze wavered, then dropped, as Arthur felt a pang of sympathy. It wasn't an easy decision, certainly. It was a messy situation, one which Alfred had not at all asked for. It was his father's mess, passed down onto him, with the crown alongside a problematic kingdom. _Which he has done an excellent job at helping_, Arthur reminded himself, as he watched Alfred think.

He _had_, and it had to be said. The kingdom wasn't exactly in top form, but it was starting to do considerably better than it had been in the last fifteen years. Under the combined efforts of both himself and Alfred, problems were being resolved, slowly, one by one. The issue of water sanitation was currently in progress, as was the slow relocation of factories to the more rural countryside, where they could do less pollutant damage. With repaired relations with the Hearts, there was a steady flow of healers and traders into the Spades, and machinery production went up again, with the Royal orders for Hearts-specific products. And-

Good god, Arthur belatedly realised. We actually... _Work_.

It was minutely confounding to realise, at first. He knew, in an abstract sense, that they worked together at the very least decently, for them to have made it through three months without the kingdom collapsing. Yet another part of him was still slightly stuck on the first few weeks of their meeting, when Alfred to him was nothing more than a child in royal robes and a crown.

_Oh how things have changed_, Arthur thought.

Alfred looked up, as if on cue. "We'll tell them," he decided, stepping towards the large windows by their armchairs. "We- We have to tell them, Arthur. It's a really really hard truth but..." Arthur could hear the audible swallow, "but it needs to be said." He turned around to face Arthur, face resolute.

"They deserve to know. All of them, no matter how bad it sounds. And telling them the truth can't be any worse than them finding out through... Well, I dunno, through any other channels, right?" Alfred cast a vaguely worried glance in Arthur's direction.

As idealistic as Alfred was - as much as Arthur had scoffed at the trait in the beginning, calling him silly and incapable of making an appropriate decision - he had to admit that his optimism was infectious, and very much necessary, in terms of balancing out their partnership.

(Either that, or he really was _that far gone_, it was hard to tell.)

"Right," Arthur affirmed, coming around to stand beside Alfred. "It'll take a lot more work than us just... _Deciding_ for it to be so but..."

"But I think you're right, Alfred."

Alfred visibly deflated in relief, coming to smile ever so slightly, and Arthur wondered about the part of him- the larger, greater part of him- which had come to trust that Alfred would do the right thing.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**  
>And here's chapter 7! Thank you again for reading and reviewing (sorry we haven't gotten around to replying to all the reviews, we promise to do it soon!), we appreciate all your support.<p>

Also, we will be taking a one-week hiatus! Which means no chapter eight next weekend, I'm afraid. We'll be back the week after that. Sorry, real life issues call.


	8. Chapter VIII

**Chapter VIII**

If anyone asked, Dominic would have said that he had seen it coming.

It was like a sucker-punch to the gut, a swift move of uncanny and probably unplanned-for deja vu (because surely King Alfred wasn't _that cruel_). Same room, same people, and a King.

But suddenly so different.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing at his fellows beside him. There was an array of emotions on display, ranging from perplexed to anxious, stonily calm to curious. Dominic worried at his lower lip, trying to calm himself. There was, strictly speaking, no reason for him to be this nervous. The new King had a very big thing about keeping in close contact with his court, and regular meetings like these weren't uncommon.

Yet there was something about everything. The way the messenger looked harried, and gave them a shorter notice than usual. Tomorrow morning, first thing, he had panted, before hurriedly bowing and moving on to the next house. King Alfred, no doubt with the logistical help of Queen Arthur, always gave them at least three days' notice in advance of any meeting.

And he _never_ held meetings at eight in the morning.

The Jack, Yao, made his way up onto the podium, before clearing his throat. The chattering masses quietened, redirecting their attention to him. Scanning the room cooly, he waited for everyone to settle down. "King Alfred," he annouced, lightly accented voice carrying clearly over the room, "and Prince Matthew will see you now."

The room was set amurmur again, for a good reason this time.

"Prince Matthew," muttered Lord Daeyan next to him. "What a rare sight." And it certainly was. Physically weak, Prince Matthew had never been a very consistent presence in court. Even early into two princes' adolecesnce, Prince Alfred had appeared in court more than Matthew had, faithfully shadowing their father, taking classes and the like. Admittedly, no one had been surprised when Alfred was appointed King. And after his appointment, the new Queen Arthur was usually by his side for the most part; rarely did Prince Matthew make an appearance.

"I wonder what the occasion is," murmured another lord to his left, "to even have the Prince come see us."

"Perhaps it is of financial or archival concern? I hear that Prince Matthew is the one who handles such matters nowadays..."

"Surely the King or Queen could have presented it on his behalf." The disdainful clicking of his tongue. "The Prince looks like he could faint at any moment, sometimes. Surely he knows that keeping himself healthy is important." A pause. "If anything were to happen to King Alfred-"

"God forbid!" Another voice came in, shocked. "_Lord Emile_! Something happening to King Alfred _what-_- What on earth are you hinting at regarding-"

"I am just addressing a fact," Lord Emile hastily cut in, "that... That those things _happen_. _Have happened_ in the past." A few more Lords around them, no doubt having eavesdropped on their conversation, quietened at that. Dominic felt his stomach turn over three times more.

Yao cleared his throat again, and this time, pin-drop silence. Dominic watched the abortive twitch of his left hand, as Yao's right tugged at his clothes. "Presenting, my Lords, King Alfred and Prince Matthew."

Dominic's head turned with the crowd, as they rose with the entrance of the two brothers. Coming to a halt in the middle of the raised platform, behind the carved podium, Dominic watched Alfred's face, resolutely set, fiercely determined, and felt it hit a little too close to home.

(Dominic could _feel_ it, feel the iciness creeping up to him from the tips of his fingers, working their way up the minute groves of his skin, creeping, _crawling_ up his arms to come around his neck, wrapping and _choking_, like he just knew they would all those years ago, when Alphonsus had that same look on his face. That exact same look of sudden clarity and determination, resolve cast in stone for all the wrong reasons.)

"Please be seated," his voice was measured, stonily cordial and completely unlike the brash King the rest of the court was used to.

(He wanted to _run_, to get away from this room, from this entire Kingdom, but time waits for no man, and is merciless to all and so-)

He sat with the rest of the court, eyes fixed on the King and Prince.

"Thank you for congregating on such a short notice." The King's gaze swept over the room, cordial. Dominic felt another lurch within him. _Times have changed_, he thought to himself, vaguely recalling the form of three-year-old Alfred and Matthew being presented to the court for the first time. _Oh how they have changed_.

(A part of him- the part which quietened with the bustle of work for fifteen years, but which in turn, pulled at the ends of his mind in the depths of the night- reminded him that he _helped_ that change. That he _was_ that change, or at least part of it.)

"We understand that some of you had to shift around important appointments to be here, but," King Alfred swallowed visibly, "but this is an issue of utmost urgency, which we cannot afford to delay any further."

(The other part of him startled, as it habitually did for a decade and a half, startling at everything including his own shadow, because god knows- _he_ knows- that all lies eventually unravel one day. In the past, they had all been false alarms but a worrying voice at the back of his head tells him _no, Dominic, not this time, not today, today is it, it's the one you've been dreading in the dead of the night, so just-_

_Just breathe and know that you've known that this was coming._)

King Alfred cast a quick sideways glance at his brother, who nodded, short and curt, an understanding passing between them.

"I'll cut to the chase," Alfred said, licking at his lower lip nervously, before straightening, palms flat on the podium and-

(_And here it comes-_)

"It has recently come to our attention that there has been a cover up of a committed act of genocide on the Time Mages of the Spades Kingdom fifteen years ago."

(_Ah._)

"An act committed by the late King Alphonsus of the Spades Kingdom."

The room errupted into flurry. Dominic could see now, as he remained seated. There were those who jumped up, screaming outrage and disbelief and _how dare you sully the name of your late father, the late King, and what sort of disgusting joke is this-_

(_Those who do not know then._)

A third of them remained seated, in various states of quiet, remaining in their seats as if there wasn't a cacophony of noise and disarray around them. He watched as Alfred's eyes rested on each one of them in turn.

(_And then there is us._)

"PLEASE SIT DOWN!"

Everyone seemed to be momentarily thrown off at the unfamiliar voice, blinking disorientedly until they noticed Prince Matthew, who had come to stand in front of the podium, eyes flashing.

It was a startling look on a boy whom half the court had never even heard speak before.

"Please," his voice was more restrained this time, but still startlingly loud for a young man who had been ordered seemingly permanent bed rest since birth. "Return to your seats, and listen to what we have to say. Contrary to what you might think, this whole meeting _isn't_ based on unfounded facts."

The whole court stared at him even more, as Alfred cleared his throat audibly, making Matthew wince, as he returned to his position behind the podium.

"Please be seated," he repeated. And so they did.

Alfred spoke again. "We... Are definitely _not _making baseless accusations." He worried at his lip momentarily, and in that moment, looked so young that Dominic was reminded that this wasn't his doing at all. _He's just trying to fix it,_ he thought to himself.

(_Fix the problem you willingly helped to create._)

"The truth came as a shock to us as well," Alfred continued, as Matthew darted a half-glance at him. "However, we have gathered what seems to be... Very solid evidence to prove of the fact." The King paused to clear his throat.

"For one, the Time Mages themselves have testified to the massacre." Murmuring in the room began.

"They would be understandably bitter about a relocation," murmured a Lord behind Dominic. "But to the extent of saying that there had been a massacre?"

Another clicked his tongue, disapproving. "I've never quite liked them, all a little too," he sniffed his nose disdainfully. "_Uppity_. As if they were better than us, just because they had the gift of magic."

A few others muttered their assent for his opinion, while one bit back. "Well, Lord Rhyes, if I'm not mistaken, you owe your current standing to The Great Movement, do you not?"

Silence, on Lord Rhyes' part, and Dominic felt himself shift on his chair uncomfortably for the upteenth time. It was true. Many of the Lords were only in their current positions (and current wealths) due to The Great Movement, when the Time Mages relocated. With their absences, there was a rather large vaccum in the court, which the lesser Lords streamed in to fill. It was the main reason for the greatly upset state the court seemed to fall into, upon receiving news of the Time Mages' return. _What would become of the court? The Kingdom?_ They had murmured in corridors, in the strictest of confidence.

_What would become of us?_

(If pressed, Dominic would admit to have felt the telltale slip of thread when he heard that the Time Mages would be coming back. The slip of thread between his fingers, suddenly so slick and slippery that he couldn't hold on to it anymore, couldn't help it from passing through his fingers anymore than he could help breathing.)

Prince Matthew stepped forward, continuing his brother's speech. "We have further evidence," he stated calmly, pulling forth a sheath of papers from a small bag he had brought in with him. Beneath it, a bound tome of leather and wax. Dominic stared at it.

_It's been a while since I last saw you_, he nonsensically found himself thinking, eying the familiar creamy brown, now dully faded to a matte, worn finish.

"This book contains the records of the year before The Great Movement, kept by the court scribe, of all official court meetings and decisions made and passed in that year," Matthew stated. "As you all know, by standard procedure, the book's pages are collated through the year, and compiled right after the Winter Festivities, then put away, to begin a new book for the new year."

Matthew bit his lip, thumbing at the cover of the book idly.

"However, after looking back onto the old records, I have discovered that some of the pages in the annual had been physically removed from the back of the annual, of the last few months of Winter." He paused. "This quite 'coincidentally'", and he said the word with no little amount of dryness, "coincides with the Time Mages' testimony of the genocide."

"One cannot simply claim genocide through a lack of documents and un-evidenced testimony, Prince Matthew," a voice said from the far corner of the room, as everyone else murmured their assent.

"Also," Matthew continued, as if he had never been interrupted, "I have found critical documents in my-" he swallowed, "-The late King's old belongings." Dominic could hear the voices around him pick up in volume, muttering of inappropriate conduct and trust, while Matthew himself tried to look as if he couldn't be any less bothered by their comments.

"These documents, after much research and detailed study, have been found to be the true originals of the year of The Great Movement, along with the removed records of the years past."

Matthew swallowed, looking slightly glassy-eyed and unsure for the first time, as Alfred shot him a wary look from the corner of his eye.

"They detail the proceedure of the massacre, down to the guards who were involved in guarding the chambers where the Time Mages had been brought in, in audience of the King, to the disposal of the bodies." This was not at all easy for the Prince, Dominic could tell, forcing himself to ignore the queasy unease in his stomach at the images the words conjured up. He forced himself to focus on the expression on the Prince's face, torn between disgust and a strangely masked modicum of pain and discomfort. How sharp of him, he thought to himself, to do all this. He is only but nineteen, after all.

(_Won't be long now._)

"My father had assumed that these documents would be his to keep and hide forevermore, and thus kept his own personal records and journals with these incriminating documents," Matthew continued, tone a forced-calm. "In the interest of full disclosure of the truth, as is our new policy-"

(_And here-_)

"-We would like to notify all of the Kingdom, of the fact that certain members of the court were indeed, involved in this act of genocide, as clearly detailed and sealed by the late King Alphonsus himself."

The room fell into silence.

Alfred stepped forward to Matthew's side.

"Lords of the Spades Kingdom, we know that this may be a shock to some of you, and a- A terrible thing to others, but please, rest assured that today's meeting was not of intent to persecute the individuals who had a hand in this... This great travesty of our Kingdom." Dominic idly registered the similar nervous tic in Alfred, as his index finger rubbed distractedly on the wooden grain of the podium.

"My father," he finally continued, after a long pause, "has made a great number of mistakes in his time, especially in his final decade and a half as King. Matthew and I, of people, have come to understand this the best and..."

"And we understand that a great deal of you would have acted under the late King Alphonsus' direction."

Dominic felt himself harshly suck in air through his nose, eyes widening because _oh, the boys are their father's sons after all, so brilliant, even in the thick of it, so bloody brilliant-_

_But this time for all the right reasons._

"Our father was an influential, inspiring man," Alfred stated. "He was a powerful man and... Due to certain circumstances, he had choosen to lead the Kingdom in a certain... Direction."

Dominic could taste the censorship in the King's words, the truth, closely euphamised behind neutral words, crafted around a barbed history fresh from the grave.

"And the court then would have felt the obligation and the need to support and follow their King despite the nature of his decisions." Alfred stopped again, eyes sweeping across the rest of the room before glancing once at his brother. If there was uncertainty in his eyes it was gone too fast.

The rest of the court was unsettlingly quiet.

"The Time Mages are returning in a week. They are citizens of our Kingdom who have had to suffer injustice to the people of their own race. We owe them much more than the truth, but we will have to start with it. For this, I would like to call the Court to step forward. To be part of the first step in righting our wrongs as a Kingdom." Alfred exhaled, deflating slightly, before - as if readying himself for the final spurt of a marathon - taking in a deep breath, "And so I ask of you - is the Court with me?"

* * *

><p>"You have used a dead man to the best of your convenience, Queen Arthur." Isaac snorted, leaning back in his chair. Arthur tried to hide his flinch, but judging from the way Isaac inclined his head and quirked up an eyebrow, it was a futile attempt.<p>

"What Alfred and I feel about Alphonsus personally has nothing to do with this situation." Because surely it pained Alfred too, to use the death of his father in this way. "It was merely the best way for all sides involved in this matter to come together and take a step forward. We can't-" And Arthur had to stop at this point, because he knew of the irony of the words that would slip past his lips the next moment, "We can't help the history that has already past."

The edge of Isaac's lips quirked upwards ever so slightly, a condescending nod to the words that had just left Arthur's mouth. "And you are proposing to us that-?"

Arthur breathed in dust and the musk of too many histories in one inhale.

"Come back." he tried, and found his words cracking at the edges, "Come home. Alfred - the King - all he wants to do is to rebuild the Kingdom. He's a kid in all aspects of the word but because he is one I think he can..." Arthur dropped his gaze to the wooden floorboards of the shed Isaac had proposed they met in, before catching himself and firming his resolve, because these were not empty words, "He can do the right thing. For the Kingdom. Maybe not for us. Not individually. But look at what he has done so far."

Isaac was still watching him, his eyes travelling to his face, slowly.

"He is truly trying to fix what he can of the past. What Alphonsus did - what his father did has nothing to do with him. They aren't the same person." _Only after Mathilda left_, his brain reminded him, the words a whisper that caught at the ends of all his thoughts, _because Alfred was just like him, just like him before everything went wrong-_

"Come back and be a part of this if you're worried. Make sure he doesn't go down the wrong track if you doubt him. There's no need to-" Arthur faltered, not entirely sure of his own words. "There's no need for revenge. Not when the Kingdom is rebuilding itself already."

Isaac was considering. Arthur knew that look on his face. But he knew that he wasn't fighting a losing battle here. Isaac was wise; the older Time Mage had walked through more distant times than Arthur himself, and surely he would understand what Arthur was trying to say.

"Help build it up rather than tear it all down and pick up the pieces once more, Arthur? Very practical of you."

"Alfred is doing nothing that he should be persecuted for." That, Arthur thought to himself a little belatedly, came out a little too fiercely than he had intended it to sound.

Isaac watched him for a moment with steely eyes of calm, before snorting into his hand. "I see you're quite fond of your King."

"I didn't mean it in that way." Arthur bit down on the inside of his mouth, trying to keep his voice as level as possible, because he could already feel the ghosts of a blush threatening to creep up his neck, and _really, that wasn't supposed to come out like that-_

Isaac laughed. It wasn't the laugh that he would laugh many years before, back when Alphonsus and him would sometimes share a cup of wine in the cooler evenings, but it was still one, and Arthur was willing to latch onto that thin strand of hope.

"Very well." Isaac smiled as he leant forward, eyes appraising Arthur's face once more. "Even though I have reasons to doubt your judgement of a King's character, Arthur, it is true that this Boy King of yours has yet to do anything that he should be punished for. We have been watching, and I personally think he should be praised."

Arthur tried not to relax too visibly.

"However." And this time the smile slid off his face like it was never there before. "People change."

Arthur closed his eyes, letting those two words wash over him along with the flash of memories that seemed to come wrapped within the innocence of a common saying. He had no good retort for that.

"Returning a group of Time Mages to the Kingdom will not be easy. Surely you have to first formulate a plan regarding things like relocation and reassignment of jobs."

"We know it's a fragile matter." Arthur felt his brow furrow slightly, because surely Isaac didn't think that he would not have realised. "But at the same time Alfred doesn't think we should be making decisions like that without input from the Time Mages themselves."

Because that was what Alfred was like, and even though Arthur had clicked his tongue in annoyance that they were not going to have a proposal or a contingency plan to fall back on if he chose to do things that way, he also realised that a part of him had grown to respect Alfred for what he tried to do.

Isaac started for a moment, eyes widening almost comically (because Isaac rarely allowed himself to display overly outward expressions of his thoughts or emotions) and Arthur found himself smugly relishing in the fact that even Isaac could be shocked by Alfred and his silly ideals.

"This King..."

"I know." Arthur tried not to smile. "... but give it a thought, would you?"

* * *

><p>"<em>Arthur.<em>" Alfred said, for most probably the tenth time that night. "You really need to stop acting like someone's going to jump out of a nearby bush and stab me or something." Arthur's head snapped over at the mention of the word "stab", eyes wide and alert. "See what I mean?"

Arthur clicked his tongue and stopped his rather manic pacing (thank god) for a moment, tapping the sole of his boot on the tiled floor of the balcony instead. "It's a complicated time alright? I have the right to worry."

They had, afterall, just told the Kingdom about The Truth. The reactions from people varied; there were the ones that fell into various different states of loud confusion, the ones that muttered curses under their breath about how the Kingdom had been long gone, and didn't they always say that Alphonsus was mad and not in the right mind? There had been talk, according to Yao, of a few factions that were doubting the Royal rule and planning on using the Massacre as one of their main reasons, but as far as Alfred was concerned, no rocks were thrown on the day of the announcement, and for now there were no big riots or mass revolts.

Alfred didn't see the need to worry because he knew that there were also people who were extremely sympathetic of the Time Mages' plight, a few that had actually stayed, after the announcement, to bow their heads in silence in front of Arthur and smiled small smiles before they left, and many more that had thrown their fists into the air and swore to make the Welcome Home festival their token of goodwill towards the Time Mages' return.

The number of people that actually turned up on the night of the festival was proof that everything was okay. The streets were filled with stalls and people who joined in the festivities, and most of the lords of the court had turned up too. Perhaps it was due to the Way Out that Matthew and Alfred presented to them - not a single member of the Royal Court protested against any of the proposals Arthur had presented to them regarding the Time Mages.

And the Time Mages themselves-

Alfred knew that it was naive and idealistic of him to be happy about it so early, but the Time Mages themselves had chosen to return. Two days after Arthur's meeting with Isaac the group of them turned up at the castle - most of them looked slightly grumpy, Alfred noted, but that couldn't be helped - and very awkwardly agreed to be part of the discussions regarding the future of the Time Mages in the Spades Kingdom.

"It'll be fine, Arthur." Alfred grinned carelessly, leaning against the balcony railing. The excited chatter of the crowds and the various lights that decked out the main street that ran from the castle down to the lower towns muffled and blurred by the distance. As the King, he had to make a speech at the beginning of the festivities, and stood at the head of the crowd when the carriages from the Diamond Kingdom arrived. The rest of it was a blur of handshaking and smiling and more speeches and loud declarations of Welcome Home before he retreated to the castle to meet Arthur at the balcony and watch over the rest of the celebrations.

He breathed in the cool night air, feeling it brush through the rawness in his throat and the fog at the back of his head that was still there, no matter what.

If he were to say that there was no sense of disorientation at all from the events of the past week he would be lying. Because it was Alphonsus, his _father_, and the ghost of the Kingdom's history that he should have never needed to face. And yet it happened, and Alfred learnt that sometimes it was all about how you used the momentum you gained from a stumble - resist it and you'd have to fall down and start again, but if you went along with it sometimes things surprisingly sorted themselves out quite well.

When he looked at it from another angle though, the past week was simply just one long stumble.

"It's a festival!" He continued, gesturing at the lights and the people and the rest of the Kingdom beneath them, "You should be celebrating, not pacing around me like my bodyguard wondering when someone's going to stick something pointy into my side." He could hear Arthur's drawn out sigh next to him, and for a moment he found his grin faltering a bit. "They'll be alright won't they? The rest of them."

There was a pause, before he felt Arthur step up next to him to lean against the balcony railing as well. "They're back home now." He started, sounding a little distant, "And even though it's probably not going to be too easy, trying to fit in again, dealing with the slight alienation due to what happened before- at least they're home."

"... We'll be alright won't we?"

Arthur turned to look at Alfred with a raised eyebrow.

"I mean," Alfred frowned a little, as if he himself wasn't too sure what he was trying to say, "Isaac and the others are going to be part of the discussions, but the treatment of the Time Mages from now on... Getting them jobs and places to stay... I'm not going to... You know, screw up am I?"

Arthur looked a little bewildered, if anything, and Alfred wondered to himself if he had only started learning what uncertainty really was after he met Arthur. What he knew was that for some reason, Arthur would be the person he would look to when he started to feel a little lost. What he should make out of that, though-

"Isaac and the rest are here. As much as most of them don't look too happy, if we make decisions after consulting the Time Mages it can't be too bad." Arthur looked a little troubled too, "... Of course, no matter what we do the fact that this entire thing is a sensitive issue doesn't change." He shot Alfred a sideway glance at that, "... And if anything, _we_ screw up, not you." Arthur cast his glance away almost immediately, redirected it at the crowds below, and the silence that followed was of a strangely familiar quality, like all the pauses that snuck into the gaps of daily conversations in the past week. Of unsaid words and incomplete sentences and everything that was too close to the heart of the matter.

_Deja vu,_ Alfred's brain thought, and he felt the disorientation in his brain swing back to that night when Arthur had told him everything-

"Arthur!" Alfred found himself blurting out instead, "I'm done with all my Kingly duties right?"

"What?"

"I mean, I did the speech and I welcomed them back and then I smiled and waved like a good King talked to Lords and Earls and stood on this balcony like a decorative centrepiece for the past hour but I'm technically _done_ with my responsibilities today right?"

Arthur shot him a funny look. "I suppose you could say so..."

"And you? You're done right? The fact that you're able to idle next to me means that you've cleared all your Queenly duties?"

"Yes, Alfred," Arthur rolled his eyes, "All that is left for me is to stand here and be an ornament for the rest of the night."

"So we can leave right?"

Arthur blanched slightly at that. "What?"

"The festival!" Alfred gestured with his left hand, "What's the point of a festival if we can't go?"

"You're not thinking-"

"I wanna go meet my friends too?" Alfred added, throwing in a hopeful look with a smile that said 'I'm really not going to ask for too much, so surely it'll be alright', "I mean, the people in the Lower Towns - I've not really met them much lately, and really it's been too long, and you know what the past few weeks were like-" He rambled on, vaguely aware of how unhelpful his rambling would be, because why in the world would Arthur say yes? And besides, as much as he _did_ want to go for the festival the true reason for bringing this up was something else entirely, so even if Arthur said no it wouldn't be too much of a problem-

"... I suppose it'll be fine if I went with you."

"Oh well guess it can't be helped- wait, _what_?"

Arthur blinked at him. "I am going with you?" He restated, although pitched higher like a question.

"But _why_?" Alfred asked, puzzled. Arthur never showed much interest in Alfred's life outside of the castle. After the incident with the healers, the matter was never brought up again by either one of them. Alfred took the hint Arthur had given him, and had generally made his trips down to the lower towns in the guise of Alex. But even so, the trips he had made were few and far between, and Arthur never showed any more interest than was professional.

"It'd be safer, of course," Arthur frowned, as if Alfred were purposefully trying to be difficult.

"Arthur," Alfred began exasperatedly. "No one's going to-"

"Stab you, yes, _I know_, I heard you the first five hundred times." Arthur rolled his eyes, before leaning back against the cool marble of the banister. "Still, it's considerably safer in general for us to go together."

Alfred eyed him, semi-wary. "I'm not going to do much you'd likely to be interested in though."

Arthur matched his look, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, _well then_, what were your plans for the evening then, _my King_?" He said, in a tone of voice which Alfred found unnecessarily dramatic and dry.

He huffed. "I dunno, visit Will and Josh, get some candy, maybe some nuts, walk around the lower towns or something."

Something brief flashed through Arthur's eyes, which Alfred barely caught.

"Sounds fun," he smiled, gentle and warm and Alfred was _not_ expecting that at all.

"Really?" He asked, incredulous. Because sure, it was fun _to him,_ but he never expected Arthur-

"Yes, surprise surprise, the one hundred and fifty-nine year old time mage knows how to have fun, hooray," he said sarcastically.

Alfred blinked at him more. "You're a hundred and fifty-nine?"

"That's not the point." Arthur turned to squint at the pink-orange skyline of the evening. "Are we going or are we not?"

Alfred was surprised, that was quite an understatement. But it just seemed to be what Arthur _did_ to him, continually, every other day. "Yeah," he finally managed, pushing back from the banister. "You sure you can take uh, peasant clothes?" He grinned.

Arthur laughed, turning to follow Alfred.

"Quite sure I can handle it."

* * *

><p>Arthur seemed to be having actual <em>fun<em>. Alfred couldn't believe it, not really.

Their first stop had been Will and Josh's workshop in the Lower Towns. It had been a while since Alfred had last checked in with them, and he had been wondering of how they had been getting along for a while now. The answer was, not too surprisingly, swimmingly. Alfred was pleased at the new looking pots of cocoa in their pantry, and fresh bread laid out for dinner.

As he had explained to Arthur on their way down, he had known Will and Josh since he was twelve, one nice, bright day when Alfred was hit in the head with a breadroll by Will (long story). They were close to him in a way which none of his peers in court were, as Alfred empathetically gestured, "they see me for, y'know, _me_. Alfred. Not The Prince or The King or The One Who Needs To Be Sucked Up To". Arthur had nodded, thoughtful and listening, fiddling with his own hat as they made their way down the gently sloping hill the Spades Kingdom was built upon.

Somewhat to his surprise, Arthur seemed to get along with his two friends, asking them about what they did in the workshop, and how they had been doing. Josh had explained to him the mechanics and uses of the parts they manufactured here, in their workshop, which were then exported to larger companies who made the actual machinery. Demand was on the rise, Will had happily added, handing over mugs of hot chocolate, with the Royal mandates for machinery in the bigger factories.

"Quite a good job with that, getting the different private factories to manufacture the machinery for the Hearts. A lot better than what King Alphonsus had done," Josh murmured, after a sip. For a second, Will seemed to balk slightly, almost elbowing him into the side because _you don't just say that to the King and Queen, not after all that_.

But Arthur just cracked a smile, seeming pleased. "Thank you," he had replied, sipping at his own drink, as Alfred blinked, surprised, in tandem with Will.

They had left the workshop, after Alfred had a second mug of hot chocolate, and had promised Will and Josh to visit them when he could. _Things aren't going to be that easy now guys_, he had laughed, rubbing at the back of his head in the doorway. _Still_, Will had stubbornly persisted, _you have to come down more often, okay?_ He had darted a glance at Arthur, before grinning. _Just remember to tell_ your Queen _first, yeah?_ Alfred had laughed, the tips of his ears warming up, as he saw Arthur cough discreetly and turn away from them, looking interestedly at another store down the street.

The evening was turning out really well, Alfred was pretty sure even Arthur would have to admit. The weather was nice, somehow the perpetual mist-smog of the city had cleared, to reveal a pink-orange sunset. The streetlamps were all lit, pre-empting an extended evening of festivities and long dinners between families and friends.

_This happens way too little,_ Alfred found himself thinking, walking past yet another restaurant with groups of people sitting around broad tables brought right into the street, laughing and eating perhaps a little too much. _People who love each other should eat with each other! Always!_

"They should," Arthur agreed, and Alfred blinked, disoriented, before realizing that he might have been verbalizing his thoughts.

"Yeah," he supported, finally catching up to matters, leaning over to grab another handful of cashews from the bag in Arthur's hands. "Everyone would totally be happier that way!"

Arthur looked at him sideways, suppressing a grin. "Maybe they would be."

In the spirit of Trying New Things and Having Fun, Alfred had cajoled Arthur into forgoing his standard, 'boring' impressions of what a dinner should consist of, and had talked him into submission to just eat whatever they wanted, just for one night.

Arthur had drawn the line at having spun-malt first though.

"No, absolutely not," Arthur had frowned, from the safety of a secluded alley, a corner away from Alfred's favoured candy store.

"Why not!" Alfred had whined, pouting. "You agreed! You agreed that we could eat whatever tonight, that we don't need appetisers or potatoes or whatever!"

"Yes, but having your dessert first just doesn't make sense!" Arthur had pointed out. "It shrinks your appetite, and you won't be able to eat anything else!"

"Who cares, _mother?_"

"Don't go crawling to the kitchen at three in the morning if you're hungry then," Arthur shot back. "And yes, I saw you the last time you did that. You shouldn't be waking the maids up at three in the bloody morning to make you something to eat!"

"They were already awake," he mumbled, scuffing the toe of his linen shoe into the cobbled street. And they had been. "I was just going to go in and get some bread or something but then they saw me and insisted that they do it, and I tried to stop them but-"

"Not the point, Alfred," sighed Arthur, exasperated and perhaps a little fond, and didn't _that_ make Alfred look. But then it was gone again, and Arthur was already out on the street again, taking a turn in the other direction.

"I saw some nuts and dried fruits about two corners ago. Let's get some of that first." Still walking, he looked over his shoulder at Alfred, smiling. "Spun-malt later, maybe. If you behave," he teased, almost-laughing.

Alfred jogged to catch up with him, his own laughter lost in the cloud of noise of a busy evening, and irrationally felt himself sink a little deeper into things.

* * *

><p>"Go fetch my ale, my good Queen!" Alfred laughed, putting on a fake, stuffy accent (which Arthur had a feeling was in mockery of him), tipsy on malt-candy and the cool evening breeze.<p>

Arthur rolled his eyes, perhaps a touch too good-naturedly for his liking, but he told himself that the goodness of the evening was getting to him too. "Go get it yourself, git."

"But you're closer!"

Arthur squinted at the man walking around, selling ale by the glass, a good twenty metres away at least. After wandering around aimlessly, stuffing themselves with foods and snacks of varying deliciousness (Alfred had been, obviously, a huge fan of the spun-malt, while Arthur found a strange fondness for the fried butter-dough fritters), the two of them had eventually found themselves in a half-filled square at the upper ends of the Lower District.

Tables had been set around the dusty fountain (_might have to get some maintainance teams down when the water sanitation projects are done..._), and groups of people had happily sat themselves down, waving down the servers sent in by the shops in the area. The residents of his neighbourhood had even taken the effort to string up a few lanterns across the two trees in the square, giving a weak, accompanying glow to the gaslight lamposts.

Arthur tilted his head back, blinking at the darkened sky. The evening wasn't so ridiculously perfect as to give them a clear view of the stars beyond the smog of the city, but he had to admit that it was definitely a... Strange, unpredicted kind of happiness he had never associated with planning this evening.

"Only by a little," he belatedly replied, after realizing that Alfred had been staring at him for a while now. He returned the gaze, blinking from the spots in his vision from staring at the gaslights. "What?"

He watched as Alfred's mouth opened, then closed again, before gaping open once more. Arthur found himself snorting a little.

"You look like a goldfish," he remarked.

"_What?_"

"Goldfish," Arthur repeated, smirking at the look on Alfred's face, as he reached to grab more chestnuts from the bag. "The orangey-gold fish you had as a kid?"

"Hey, I know what goldfish are dammit!" Alfred frowned, throwing a chestnut at Arthur's head.

"Did you know that they have short memory spans? A couple of seconds, if I'm not mistaken-"

"_I'm_ not like that!"

Arthur laughed outright this time, tilting his chair back on it's back legs in effort of it. "I never said you were either! You drew the link so..."

Alfred paused for a moment, just a little dumbfounded. Quite priceless, Arthur found himself thinking, doubling forward this time in soundless chuckles, and quite a relief.

To say that Alfred had undergone a lot of stress in the past week or so would be a gross understatement. It most certainly had not been easy on the man. Aside from festival preparations and settling the Time Mages into their temporary quarters, Arthur had caught Alfred in one of his Moments. Quite a few of them, actually. He would be sitting down, in the middle of doing something, or anything at all really, and he would just space out for a moment, before snapping back.

It had been, Arthur admitted to himself, a little beyond worrying. The decision to "use" Alphonsus had been mutual, jointly conceived by the both of them, before being approved by Yao and Matthew. But Arthur couldn't imagine Alfred _not_ being personally affected it by the decision. He had done a swell job of hiding it during the past week. Alfred had been nothing but professional and an utterly responsible King, going to all meetings and events without complaint or procrastination.

It made Arthur wonder about the Alfred he had come to know, made him wonder if by making this decision together, for the better of the Kingdom, Arthur had somehow sealed off that part of Alfred. The part of him which went into the kitchens at two in the morning to filtch pudding, the part which wanted to talk to every single citizen about everything.

It made him realize that he might actually miss that Alfred. That he might miss the procrastinator in him, the silly child who wanted to have dessert before dinner, the part which made him a great King, and just as great a man.

"What are you staring at, old man?" Alfred grinned at him lopsidedly, all loose limbs and wind-tousled hair.

An arm nudged at Arthur's back before he could answer, an old woman grinning down teasingly at Arthur.

"At you of course, boy. Don't ask silly questions. As if you haven't been staring at 'im all night too," she laughed, nudging him playfully.

"W-What-"

"We've been placin' bets on you boys, us folk from the bakery on Wester Lane," laughed the man who was selling ale, as he walked past. "Bettie here was trying to put things in 'er favour, a'course," he mock-frowned at the woman, who just shrugged, grinning.

"Doing nothing wrong 'ere, mind your your mouth, Mason," she defended, patting Arthur on the shoulder comfortingly. "Just helping love along, the gods won't have me for that, would they?"

Arthur watched as Alfred blushed bright red, right to his hairline, and by the warmth of his face, he figured that he wasn't that far off either.

"Been wondering how long you two would take," teased another girl, younger this time, around Alfred's age, a she swept past with a tray of fruit strudel. "Thom was the only one who thought we were all crazy, but," she snorted, "he's a a senile old man, so don't listen to him." She looked between the two of their red faces, grinning. "Not that you boys seem like you would," she smirked.

"We're-" Alfred spluttered, "_He's_ not like that- I mean-"

"_Yes_- I mean _no_, I- But we're not-"

The waiters and waitresses around them laughed racourously, obviously a little tipsy on the ale as well, slapping each other on the back and slipping each other pennies and folded notes, as they all seemed to _congregate_ around the table, as Arthur felt himself flush even redder under the scrutiny.

Suddenly, Alfred pushed away from his seat, tugging his thin coat around him, still red in the face, but frowning deeply. "C'mon Art- Er. _Adam_." He left abruptly, not bothering to push the chairs back in or anything of the sort, leaving Arthur with the crowd of laughing men and women, nudging at him meaningfully to follow his "lover", or so they were hinting at.

"We're really not-" He tried, but gave up half-way, seeing as his efforts seemed to be futile. Instead, he huffed and pulled down his cap further, jogging after Alfred.

"Hey," he breathed, a little winded, as he caught up to Alfred, who just made a non-committal noise at his presence. Arthur rarely saw Alfred this upset, he realized. The set of his frown was telling, the same way he had looked when Arthur had put down his proposal in front of the court. Frankly, he didn't like it.

"Don't let them bother you," he found himself saying. "I mean, they were just joking- A little drunk on ale, if you ask me," he half-laughed. "I-I mean, the idea of you and I together a-aha, we'd be a right pair, wouldn't we?" Arthur rambled, "I mean how would we even- We'd be _terrible_ together, much too different and- It's just ridiculous and-"

"IT ISN'T!" Alfred suddenly shouted, stopping mid-step, as Arthur's inertia caused him to crash into Alfred's back.

"W-Wha-"

"It _isn't_!" Alfred cried, spinning around to grip a very stunned Arthur around the shoulders, pulling him upright. "You're my Queen, we're partners, and we're pretty damn different yeah but- _But it works_, why can't you see that?"

_But I do_, Arthur thought, the words caught in his throat, but Alfred barreled on at his own rushed pace of words.

"They weren't- It isn't ridiculous, it just _isn't_!" He petulantly repeated, eyes flashing with dead seriousness, and Arthur felt his breath catch, still slightly winded from the jog over. "You and me, we-" Alfred seemed to deflate in that moment, his eyes darting across Arthur's face (possibly registering what Arthur thought would be one of the most bewildered looks that had ever graced his face in the past fifty years or so), and then he faltered. "We... _could_."

"Do you..." Arthur licked his lips nervously, staring at Alfred's collar, trying not to let his voice shake, "... Want to? Want to... Want _us_ to work? In... _That_ way?" His hand flapped vaguely between them, helpless because _how on earth was he supposed to do this_?

"I-" Alfred pinked, and - as if that wasn't enough of an answer on its own - made a strange noise in his throat as he looked away for a moment. "I don't know, I mean, all sorts of things have happened, and then _dad_ and all that- but I-" Another moment of faltering before-

"AUGGGH! YES! GODDAMNIT YES, OKAY I LOST!" Alfred snapped, shouting now, in the low-lit alley between the Middle and Upper Districts. "I don't _need_ to want it to work, Arthur, it's already _working_! You know it, I know it and we're just hovering in this weird _limbo_ and you just won't _admit_ that- "

(Hand on his shoulder that night in the room, and Alfred's gaze was so utterly clear and piercing and _blue_ it wasn't even a funny cliche anymore, not to Arthur. And there had been that morning at the Hearts Kingdom, defences worn down by sleep and good food and the fresh morning light making Alfred's hair practically shine in his sleep and the realization that maybe they were _both_ that far gone.)

(And wasn't that kind of world-shakingly, mind-blowingly amazing.)

"You're right," Arthur said.

Alfred blinked at him, slightly thrown off at the immediacy of his response. "Really?" He blurted. "I-I mean," Alfred ammended, taking his hands off Arthur's shoulders to flap around half-convincingly, as his face started to pink again. "I _am_, of course I am, ha ha. But I mean- I didn't think you would... I mean I _did_, I thought so but I didn't think you would _admit_ that you were um- Wait. what are y-"

After a few long moments, Arthur finally released, him, hands still in his hair, as he held Alfred close.

"Just shut up, Alfred," he mumbled, slightly smug and altogether far too deliriously happy, but he genuinely thought that the flushed, bewildered and also altogether-far-too-happy expression on Alfred's face was the best thing that he had seen in a long time.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Jeez yes, we know, long hiatus was long. Sorry about that. But here's the new chapter, and we hope you've enjoyed it! 


	9. Chapter IX

**Chapter IX**

Alfred woke to the sight of Arthur's sleeping form a foot away from him, lips slightly ajar, eyebrows unfurrowed. Even after six days of it, he felt disorientated for a moment, before grinning to himself. Because how awesome was it that he got to wake up, every single morning, to Arthur?

Pretty damn awesome, he decided, reaching out to pull Arthur close, burrowing his face into the crook of Arthur's shoulder, receiving only a mumble in response, and a hand coming to rest at his waist.

At Arthur's insistence, they hadn't told anyone yet, much to Alfred's displeasure. It was an amazing development, wasn't it? _He_ wanted to tell everyone the second they got back to the castle. Mattie, Yao, the girl who came in to fix his sheets every morning, _everyone_. Arthur disagreed. He had gone pink for a moment, after Alfred had very loudly told him who he would like to tell exactly, about their new relationship, before recovering himself.

Too many things going on at once, he had insisted, the light blush on his cheeks counterpoint to the matter-of-fact tone of his voice. "The kingdom's already had enough surprises this month," Arthur had muttered, idly toying with the thickly embroidered curtains facing the castle gardens, and the distrcts beyond.

Alfred's proclamations of how pretty much everyone already thought they were together anyway didn't seem to hold much weight, as Arthur had coloured up even more, pushing away from the window ledge to huff his way to the other side of the room. They had come to a strange kind of stalemated-concession with Arthur falling asleep on Alfred's bed, head against his shoulder, where he slept till the morning.

Half-waking up to, or getting woken up by Arthur before he left the room for six mornings in the row was a pretty awesome concession, Alfred had thought. And the sleepy kiss Arthur would give him (disregarding the morning breath) wasn't too bad too. They tried to act as normally as possible at all other times during the day, trying not to draw too much attention to their new relationship. While Arthur kept this up fairly well, Alfred frankly, couldn't see the point in it. They were going to find out some time, right? Unless...

_Unless Arthur doesn't want people to know that we're together?_

The thought unsettled him, kept him staring at Arthur's sleeping face for a few extra moments every morning, wondering if Arthur was ashamed of him, somehow? That him not wanting to tell the people that they were formally a couple went beyond Queenly concern for the state of the country? Alfred worried at his lower lip, considering. It was possible, as much as he would like to think otherwise. Didn't Arthur always call him childish, if not a child? Granted, he hadn't said that for a while now, but still...

"Something wrong?" Arthur mumbled, sleepily opening his eyes to frown at Alfred. His thumb came up to smooth at Alfred's temple, rubbing gently. "You look... Worried."

Alfred stared at him for a moment longer, studying how Arthur squinted at the early morning sun, eyebrows bunching together, the way his own temples were creased ever so slightly, while he tried to smooth Alfred's out.

The occasional kiss and hug and sleeping together were all very well, but Alfred was never that great at keeping his worries to himself.

"Arthur, I need to ask you something." He finally said, steeling himself for what was to come. Arthur seemed to notice, as sleep-rumpled and soft as he looked, as his frown set itself deeper. "It's really important, and you shouldn't... Hide anything, alright? Because I really need to know, right now. Because if we carry on like this and you tell me like, a lot later, I don't know if I'll be able to-"

"Out with it, Alfred," Arthur cut in, impatient and focused, his eyes trained on Alfred's face the whole time, and it was exactly that kind of concentration and attention Arthur paid him which really made Alfred antsy about the answer.

"Are you embarrassed of us, Artie?" Alfred blurted.

"_What-_? Why would you-"

"No wait, listen to me, okay?" Alfred interrupted, covering Arthur's mouth with his hands to make his point. "I-I mean, you always say that I'm... Childish and immature and stuff so I could... Kinda understand why you'd be embarrassed but... I mean, at the same time, I really don't want you to be. I mean. I'm really really really happy that we're together Artie, and I wouldn't give that up for anything. Ever. And I want everyone to know that yeah?" He felt his brows furrow in concentration, Arthur's lips moving behind his hand, his voice coming out muffled.

"And," he carried on, "if you really think its a problem then... You have to tell me okay? I can um, try to change or something. I mean, it's kinda hard and stuff but I really want to be a good king and... I want to be someone that you can be proud of being with, Artie," he finished, biting his lower lip nervously. He hadn't actually fully thought out what he wanted to say, but Arthur waking up and just _looking at him like that_ had startled him into talking.

Arthur stared at him for a moment, mouth unmoving, seemingly digesting his words as Alfred continued to watch on, nervous. Finally, Arthur's hand came up, gently removing Alfred's own from his mouth.

"Alfred," he said, very seriously, brows furrowing gently again, "I'm not ashamed of you, and I'm- I'm not just saying that. I..." He paused, eyes averted, considering his words. "I wouldn't want change anything about you, Alfred," he admitted. "And I probably couldn't anyway because..." Arthur rolled his eyes, "Well. That's besides the point."

Alfred continued to watch as Arthur sat up, carding his fingers through his hair frustratedly. "I..." He seemed to battle with his words, fighting for the right ones to the death. "I... Like who you are, even your faults because..." Arthur shrugged, and from Alfred's position, he could see his ears pinking.

"Because it's a part of who you are. And I like that. So..." Arthur sighed, leaning back against the solid wooden headboard, looking back down at Alfred again, the pink in his cheeks rising. "So no. I'm not ashamed of you." Staring down at Alfred like that, a moment passed, and his brows came together in confusion again. "Why the sudden question though? Did I do anything that um, made you think that I was embarrassed about us being..." His hand waved vaguely in the space between the two of them, "together?"

"You didn't want to tell anyone about us," Alfred mumbled, on the verge of self-consciousness, because he had _not_ been expecting Arthur to say that. Stoic, dry, humorless Arthur so explicitly admitting that he liked Alfred, liked him for his faults and all, and almost wiping Alfred's mind clear of any doubt.

Almost.

"You said it was because there was too much happening in the kingdom already, and that anything else would just add to it but..." Alfred frowned, pushing himself up as well, to sit cross-legged, facing Arthur. "I dunno," he confessed. "I was worried that you just... Didn't want people to know that we were a couple."

He watched carefully, as Arthur's eyes widened, before he looked down again, hand coming up to rub at his eyes. "_Ohhh_. _Alfred_- No- I just-" A sigh, and Arthur kept his head down.

"I was worried," he muttered, so soft that Alfred barely caught it. "About... Us."

"What?" Alfred asked, puzzled. "Why?"

Arthur paused again before speaking. "Worried that this... Relationship between us wouldn't last. That you'd... Get sick of me quickly because, I am, well. I am who I am and- you're young and so full of life and I'm... Not." Arthur finished, a silence hanging between them as Alfred processed his words.

Alfred flew forward, hands on Arthur's shoulders, shaking him to look him in the eye before he could really think about it.

"Don't be stupid!" Alfred shouted, irritated and upset. "Why would I- _No!_ I wouldn't have said everything that day if I didn't know that I wanted you for good!" He bit out, staring at Arthur straight in his slightly-widened eyes.

"And I _do_! I do want you. _Forever_!" He repeated, because well. Important things bear repeating. And Alfred wanted it to be known, wanted Arthur to have it drilled into that probably-bordering-on-senile mind of his, because _how else could he not have known_?

He knew that forever was a strong word, and an idle remark from the baker down at Blake Street came to mind. Something about only the gods being able to talk in terms of forevers, and how forever was not a word to be trifled with, for Man would just be tempting fate, but Alfred couldn't help his words right now anymore than he could help breathing.

"Words are easy, Alfred," Arthur said, voice measured and false-steady, not quite meeting Alfred's eyes, which he _hated_. He didn't want this kind of evasion, he thought that they were already past that, past the narrow misses which gaped chasms of space and concealed intent.

"Well then," Alfred frowned, serious. "you're gonna have to just trust me."

Arthur looked at him then, straight in the eyes, his head cocked slightly, considering. He studied Alfred for another long moment, before finally cracking a small smile.

"I suppose so then," he breathed, the smile hooking at the corners of his lips, causing Alfred to smile back at him in response.

"Good," Alfred grinned, leaning in to press Arthur against the headboard in a kiss. He could feel Arthur's smile, twin to his, behind the soft press of his lips. Aside from waking up to a face full of tawny blond hair sometimes, and those smiles Arthur seemed to only have for him, he was pretty sure that this was the awesomest thing ever too. Alfred couldn't imagine himself getting sick of kissing Arthur. The idea was ridiculous! He-

"Ahem."

Alfred found himself being very physically shoved away, landing on the opposite end of the bed with a solid thump, blinking disorientatedly at an upside-down Yao and Sandy, one of the maids who brought in his breakfast every Sunday and-

_Oh shit._

"A-Aha," laughed Alfred nervously. "Hi?"

"W-We weren't-" Arthur spluttered at the same time, and Alfred couldn't see him right then, but he was pretty sure his face was going red again.

"Relax, aru," Yao said, rolling his eyes. "You look like you've been caught doing something illegal."

"But-"

"As if the whole castle didn't already think you two were..." He looked at their positions, "... Bedding together. Do you know how loud you two are when you talk?" Yao demanded, shooing the maid forth to place the tray onto the table. He nodded towards her, shooting the two of them a look. "Everyone in the wing could hear aru, and as much as you are allowed to do whatever pleases you, _your highnesses_," he said, with absolute dryness.

"The maid was fretting in the corridor as she wasn't sure if she should knock or not so," he made a derisive noise, eying them both. "If you could, your highnesses, please keep it to a lower volume. Sandy, please bring my breakfast into the Jack's study." And with that, he left the room, leaving a tray with two plates (_two plates? So the maid knew...?_) of pancakes, butter melted and dripping, with a jug of maple syrup.

There was an awkward silence in the room, broken only by the growling of Alfred's stomach. Arthur shot him a look, as Alfred shrugged helplessly. "I'm hungry," he explained, tugging himself up to a sitting position.

"Also, told you that everyone knew about it already- Ow!" He cried, rubbing the spot on his shoulder where Arthur had whacked him, as Arthur stood up to retrieve the breakfast tray.

"Some maple syrup, your highness?" He offered, mock sweetly, and Alfred found himself laughing, reaching for the syrup jar himself.

* * *

><p>"The lists you requested for, your highnesses."<p>

Arthur looked up from the pile of papers atop his desk, and Alfred had startled, nearly dropping the papers he was reading whilst casually sprawled out on the couch in Arthur's study.

Isaac raised an eyebrow, regarding Alfred with a slightly amused look in his eyes as he tried to straighten his coat, a little too rigid and straight and flustered to help in his attempt to regain what little kingly composure he was supposed to have.

"You don't really have to call us that in private, Isaac." Arthur coughed, shooting Alfred a look (that he returned with an indignant pout) as he stood up to walk over to where the elder Time Mage was standing. "It's awkward enough in court."

"Ah, but it is only right for us to express our gratitude to the King, for allowing us the honour of being immediately raised to advisors of the Court despite our absence for the past fifteen years."

Alfred spluttered a bit. "N-no! I mean, of course it's a pleasure to have you guys back and all that, but it's not really the honour, and well, you guys know the situation with the rest of the Time Mages better than I do, and so it's only right for me to ask you guys about how to deal with uhm, you guys, and all that..." He trailed off, looking increasingly sheepish as he he continued. "... That probably wasn't supposed to sound like that."

Arthur sighed, and Isaac chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

The decisions that had to be made regarding the Time Mages were a lot more confusing than Alfred had initially thought they would be. Relocation was definitely an issue; new homes had to be built and new jobs introduced. That was all he had considered though, and he had panicked when Arthur had asked him if it would be better to relocate all the Time Mages in one area, or if it would be better to spread them out amongst the other citizens of the Kingdom.

Both ways, Arthur had told him rather grimly whilst rubbing at his temples, would give way to problems. Would the Time Mages be worried that they were being rounded up in an enclosure if they were all relocated to the same area? Or would they detest being spread so thin, as if the Court still saw them as a threat and was trying to keep them from banding together?

Alfred had faltered then. And that wasn't even the start of all the other things they had to consider.

They had turned to Isaac then, out of Alfred's insistence on not making a decision without the input of the Time Mages themselves. The Time Mage had agreed to take the issue to the rest of the Time Mages, and that had somehow transgressed into Alfred deciding that they might as well open up positions in the Court for Isaac and two other elder Time Mages. The rest of the Court had been slightly sullen, but if anything, they said nothing and accepted the increase of three new seats around the table.

A month had past since then, and the entire castle found themselves a little too busy with everything else to stop and think about that.

"The names of all the Time Mages and their choice of neighbourhood, signed and personally approved by each individual." Isaac passed the scroll in his hands over to Arthur, who unrolled it and threw a worried glance at him. "Don't give me that look. I'm a Time Mage, I can't read their minds and tell you if they are truly fine with the arrangement. But they all understand the situation, and this is the decision we have come to. Together."

Alfred watched as Arthur dropped his gaze slowly and nodded. Their relations with the rest of the Time Mages, at its best, had been awkward. Isaac seemed to be comparitively amiable though, taking the time to sit through meetings and providing solid communication channels between the Court and the Time Mages. It couldn't be helped, Arthur had told him one night - a little distant and distracted from the thoughts in his head - too many things had happened, and it would be asking for too much if they expected the rest of the Time Mages to come to terms with the new situation that easily. It was good that they had chosen to return, and that Isaac had conceded to his argument, and if that meant that both sides had to tiptoe around each other for the next few years or so then, well, there was that.

To Alfred, it was troubling. He wanted to be there, directly involved in the lives of his people. _All_ his people. Even if they were a new group of less than a hundred, gone for fifteen years, forced to bear upon them the sufferings caused by his own father. He wanted to be there to watch them move into their new houses, ask them what they felt, if the new jobs were okay, if they liked their new neighbours, if they liked their new kingdom...

If they liked their new King.

But Arthur had insisted that they left communication with the Time Mages to Isaac for now. That perhaps the rest of the Time Mages wouldn't want to have to deal with them for now. The son of the man who killed the rest of their kin, and the friend of said man who didn't stop the rest of the tragedy when he could.

Arthur had stopped talking about the massacre as if it was his fault, but Alfred wasn't too sure if he had truly come to terms with the past. He wasn't sure if he himself had truly come to terms with the past. Sometimes he would wonder out loud at Matthew, who would smile a small, pained smile at him, and then the two of them would sit there in silence for several minutes, just thinking about it all.

The blood of the past and the madness of their father and the pain that sat in the depths of the hearts of everyone else involved.

And then it was back to business.

"Checked with the rest of them during the meeting this morning," Alfred kicked himself off the couch, "The new districts we're building in the east are more or less ready, so we can move the group out of the temporary shelters over there pretty soon?" He could feel Arthur jump slightly when he placed a hand over his shoulder, and he threw him a grin at that. "That means that another ten Time Mages have new homes yea? Of course, we'll need to inform the other residents that we're relocating from the Lower Towns about that too."

"Job-wise?" Arthur turned to Isaac. The terseness in his shoulders had given way though, and Alfred took that as a sign that this was alright for now.

"No complaints as of yet. The women seem to be getting along with their new employers." Isaac paused for a moment, before turning to Alfred. "They send you their thanks."

Alfred pinked slightly, mouth cracking into an involuntary grin. "It's nothing really. Gotta thank everyone else for being so willing to help too yea?"

Several job openings were negotiated and created by "Alex" who went around talking to friends and owners of various businesses to see if they could do with an extra helping hand. Of course, the Court had its share in creating new jobs and businesses, but as both Arthur and Isaac pointed out, it was probably not too wise to suddenly create too many businesses purely run by Time Mages. Integration back into the greater community was rather high on their priority list, and Alfred agreed that working together with the rest of the citizens would probably make the Time Mages feel more welcomed and 'back at home'. Several openings in the factories were opened for the men, a few empty slots in the army filled by the more battle-ready Time Mages, and the women found their places in bakeries and clothing shops.

Everything was going good, if Alfred had to say anything about the current situation, but at the same time he wasn't entirely sure about it all. He was naive, Arthur had stated that several times, and for some reason Alfred had a hunch that Yao and Isaac shared the same sentiments. Was it naive that he thought that everything was okay then?

"As your highness says." Isaac took a bow before looking over to Arthur. "If that's all, Arthur, I'll take my leave."

Arthur nodded, eyes still trained on the list in his hands. He only raised his gaze for a moment. "Thank you." Isaac shrugged, a half-smile on his face.

And then he was gone.

Alfred deflated, resting his chin on Arthur's shoulder, staring at the list that Arthur refused to roll up. "What's wrong?" He asked.

"What's wrong?" Arthur echoed, wrinkling up his nose slightly as he shifted to look at Alfred. "Nothing?"

"But you've been staring at this same thing for ages!" Alfred gestured at the list of names, "Gotta be something wrong, unless you're trying to memorize all their names."

Arthur snorted. "No, it's not that. I was just..." He paused for a moment. "Thinking."

Alfred resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Out with it Artie." One month, and Arthur was still in his bad habit of shrugging off things with a vague answer. It was _Arthur_ of course, and this was what Arthur did, but surely now that they were _partners_, that Arthur had accepted the fact that Alfred was his equal-

"... I'm just..." Arthur exhaled, walking away from Alfred to place the scroll of paper on his desk, staring pointedly out of the window. "... I'm not sure if this is alright the way it is."

Alfred blinked. "What- Of course it's alright! I mean, the Kingdom's in a much better state than what it used to be, trade relations are good, the Time Mages are back home-"

"That's the problem." came the slightly choked out reply.

Alfred blanched,

"T-the fact that it's alright?" Because surely that was ridiculous, Alfred argued with himself, Arthur was just being a worrywart because that was how he was, because there was no way he could _not_ worry even if the situation was perfectly worry-free. But yet there was something at the base of his stomach, cold and chilly and so ready to become fully existent-

"... Sometimes not everyone is ready to let things like this drop." Arthur muttered, eyes trained on the skyline of the lower towns. "Sometimes people need closure, and we're not giving it to them."

"We _are_, Arthur. We're... I don't know, we're making things better and they have homes and jobs now." Alfred tried, he really did. He wanted to deny the feeling in his gut that he knew exactly what Arthur was talking about. That this was not closure at all. (Because it wasn't for him either. Not for him. Not for Matthew. Not for Arthur.)

Arthur threw him a sideways glance over his shoulder, his mouth quirking up slightly. It felt more like a grimace than a smile. "I suppose you're right."

Alfred had a feeling that they both knew he wasn't.

* * *

><p>The first sign of a disturbance had come at night, wedged in-between sleep and consciousness.<p>

Next to him Alfred was still asleep, snoring lightly and drooling on his pillow. The night was still dark. And there was a strange tension in the air. Time Magic, he could tell, but not the kind he had experienced before - it was a strange twisting in the atmosphere that contorted the insides of his stomach.

Something was wrong.

Alfred stirred slightly when he shifted out of bed and grabbed for his coat, but showed no other signs of waking up.

It could be a displeased Time Mage, Arthur thought to himself, reaching for his sword. Though at the same time he doubted that, because the scent of magic was too weak. Just a few people. And it wasn't as if they didn't know that Alfred wasn't affected by Time Magic, and that Arthur himself was in the castle.

It would be too stupid.

But the presence of magic was there. The darkened corridors were silent. It was that time of night where even the servants were asleep. Arthur moved silently, contemplating if he should wake a few guards at least. Maybe Alfred, even. But what if that caused un-needed panic? The tensions between the castle and the Time Mages were already bad enough.

As he ascended the stairs to the roof Arthur could feel the cold in his stomach expand. He didn't know this brand of Time Magic. It was alien to his senses, like a foreign presence in the threads of time. And Arthur _knew_ most Time Magic. The fact that this was foreign could only mean one thing, and Arthur forgot about being quiet and inconspicuous, he forgot about stealth, about caution, about making sure the increasing tensions would not get worse-

"What in the bloody hell do you think you're-"

It was really an unneeded question. By the time Arthur threw open the wooden doors leading to the main roof of the castle he had already known instinctively the nature of the magic involved.

The five Time Mages on the roof were all hooded and cloaked. The large circles they had etched into the ground resembled giant clock faces, swirling, looping and unraveling into each other and back again. Arthur cursed when he realised that they were already glowing.

He needed to cancel the spell. Not that he knew how to do it. But if his gut feeling was right, and what they were casting really was what he thought they were-

There was a flash of light, and the only thought that registered in Arthur's head before that was a simple _I told you so._

* * *

><p><span><strong>AN:**

We know, we know, you must've thought we were dead D: And yes it's been a ridiculously long time since we've updated, we're really sorry! But life happened, then vacation(s), but now we're back! A warning though, we're now juggling multiple projects, so updates might be a little while coming! Still, we hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and that you'll continue to follow and support us. Much love for all of the favourites and reviews, it's always a pleasant surprise to get new ones in our inbox (even for Heartstrings and our other stories omg)! Have a great week, and we'll see you again soon!


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